


the black swan

by RorschachIris



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Pacific Rim (Movie), Character Death, Complete, Drama, F/M, Giant robots fighting giant alien monsters, Homicidal aliens, I have taken many liberties, Judgmental aliens, Kylo Ren & Ben Solo are Different People, Kylo Ren & Ben Solo are Twins, Not Beta Read, Oops, Pacific Rim Crossover AU, RIP RBG, Science Fiction, Sharing a Bed, Slow Loss of Sanity, TECHNICAL/SCIENTIFIC INACCURACIES ABOUND, The apocalypse has been on my mind lately..., WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED, i will do my best, this gets heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:11:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 78,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RorschachIris/pseuds/RorschachIris
Summary: /ˌblak ˈswän/, noun. An unpredictable or unforeseen event, typically one with extreme consequences.Rey is a Jaeger pilot trainee working as a mechanic at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, trying to do her part in saving the world. Her life is upended as Kylo Ren, after years of being MIA, grudgingly returns to the Shatterdome to resume his role as a Ranger, and as the apocalyptic Kaiju situation continues to escalate.Pacific Rim Crossover AU
Relationships: Amilyn Holdo/Din Djarin, Kaydel Ko Connix/Armitage Hux, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 76
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So the apocalypse has been on my mind lately, for obvious reasons, and I've also been stewing on the idea of a Star Wars/Pacific Rim crossover for a while... and here we are. I have nooo idea where this is going to go but I know it's going to be fun!
> 
> Terminology:
> 
>   1. _Breach_ \- a portal constructed by a mysterious alien race that lies at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean near Hong Kong.
>   2. _Kaiju_ \- Japanese for "strange beast." Alien monsters of mysterious origin that emerge occasionally from the breach. They vary widely in size, shape, abilities, etc. Organized by size into numbered categories, with Cat-1 being the smallest.
>   3. _Jaeger_ \- German for "hunter." Giant robots invented by a group of human engineers to defend the world against the Kaiju; manned by pairs of pilots. Organized by model into Mark designations, with Mark-I indicating the earliest models.
>   4. _Ranger_ \- a pilot of a Jaeger.
>   5. _Drift_ \- a synthetic neural link between the two Rangers of a Jaeger. Used to facilitate Ranger coordination during combat. During a drift, the linked minds are essentially completely vulnerable to each other.
>   6. _Shatterdome_ \- massive buildings that house facilities and personnel directly dedicated to the repair, command, and operations of Jaegers. Located all over the world during the height of the Jaeger Program; only the one in Hong Kong remains in operation today.
>   7. _LOCCENT_ \- stands for Local Command Center. Every Shatterdome has one. Responsible for coordinating deployment and movement of Jaegers.
> 


_“Anakin.”_

_“Yeah.” Anakin doesn’t look up from his calculations, his pencil flying across the sheet of paper before him._

_Obi-Wan flexes an arm wrapped in a mess of wires and metal parts and watches, mesmerized, as the robotic arm suspended amid a mass of wiring and scaffolding in the next room flexes and twists in sync. Anakin looks up, his mind not quite registering what he’s seeing. His eyes widen slowly._

_“It’s working,” Obi-Wan breathes._

\---

The beginning of Rey’s day is like any other. She’s up just before dawn, and she hurries, toes curling against the cold of the floorboards, to the shared women’s bathroom to wash up. She hurries back to her poorly-lit quarters to dress quickly in her plain, economical mechanic’s uniform, and to tie her hair out of her face. She straightens and stares for a moment out the unceremonious square hole in the wall of her cramped quarters that serves as her one window, at the barely-distinguishable skyline of Hong Kong across the narrow channel of water that runs between the city and the Shatterdome. She wonders if today will be the last day the city remains intact.

Stepping as quietly as she can, she hurries down to breakfast before the other early birds show up, greeting the cook, Maz, with a quick smile and wolfing down her milk and eggs and toast in the silent canteen, and skips down to the lowest floor of the Shatterdome. 

The floor is a sprawling, dimly-lit, well-organized storage area that doubles as a bunker in case the base itself comes under attack, but there is a tiny room in the outer perimeter that is barely more than an alcove, and Rey makes a beeline for that. Rey skims along the steel floor in the dim incandescent light, swings open the rusty-hinged door of the room, and flips the switch for the single bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

The room is unadorned, the walls cold, unpolished steel. Utilitarian shelves line the four narrow walls. Rey closes the door behind her and turns slowly, surveying each of the small framed photos that stand in a line on the center shelf.

The photos of the HK Shatterdome’s Old Guard generation, the pioneers of Jaeger piloting, all of them having jockeyed in Mark-I Jaegers with minimal-to-no radiation shielding, and all of whom are, with the exception of Commander Holdo, deceased, always catch Rey’s eye first; the colors are more faded, the militaristic poses and simple uniforms of the Rangers more intimidating, more impressive. First in the line of deceased Rangers are Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi, with unmistakable streaks of gray in their thinning hair, their kind but restrained faces prematurely webbed with wrinkles; inventors of the first ever battle-ready Jaegers—the J-3 and the J-4; the J-4 was later modified to support two pilots after trials indicated that the neural load was too much for a single pilot, and rechristened the _Vader_ , the predecessor of all Jaegers. 

After Anakin and Obi-Wan are the dashing Quinlan Vos and the austere Asajj Ventress—soldiers in their respective countries’ militaries who‘d risen from mere privates to copilots of the _Vengeance_. After Quin fell in battle and Anakin finally succumbed to severe radiation poisoning from the early Jaeger trials, the _Vader_ was decommissioned, and Obi-Wan, also battling severe radiation poisoning, co-piloted the _Vengeance_ with Asajj for an additional six years before they were both killed in action by a Category 3 Kaiju. 

After Asajj’s photo is one of Din Djarin, a gaunt, stoic Mandalorian soldier with a head of close-cropped black curly hair and a permanent, thin-lipped grimace, who had been the outspoken, no-bullshit Commander Holdo’s copilot aboard the fighting machine _Brawler_ and, eventually, to everyone’s surprise, her husband as well.

Rey moves from Din to the Rangers of the Golden Age, who jockeyed in primarily Mark-II Jaegers during the height of the Jaeger program, many of whom pulled off harrowing feats that Rey had pored over eagerly in the Shatterdome records: Chewbacca Kashyyyk and Landonis Calrissian, Han Solo’s old friends and copilots of the _Falcon_ , the only Jaeger with a triple-pilot system and flight capabilities; Chirrut Îmwe and Baze Malbus, the night-and-day Southeast Asian men who had co-piloted the _Corinthian_ with legendary skill; Han and Commissioner Leia Organa’s son, Benjamin Solo, who died early on in his time aboard the nuclear-powered _Dark Knight_ ; and the latest—Paige Tico, aboard the incendiary _Inferno_ , which had been constructed using some of the wreckage of the _Corinthian_ after Chirrut and Baze’s final battle.

There are no memorialized Rangers from the current, post-decommissioning time, nicknamed Rogue One, but the death toll is already staggering—so many deaths in 25 years. The only Rangers Rey had met were Ben and Paige; as Luke’s ward, Rey had met Ben a handful of times, and only in the context of stilted, uncomfortable family gatherings—never as fellow Rangers. As for Paige, Rey had only been at the HK Shatterdome for two months, and had formed a tenuous friendship with the Tico sisters, when the _Inferno_ was sent out to battle the first Category 4 Kaiju the world had ever seen. After a brutal four-hour fight, the _Inferno_ had crawled back onto shore, dripping Kaiju blue and short one Ranger, the entire left half of its metallic body almost entirely shredded. Everyone at the Shatterdome had experienced loss of some kind—a family member, a friend—but no one was able to console the near-delirious Rose.

Rey stands there, looking first at Paige’s photo and contemplating her (still fairly recent) death; she then turns her gaze to Ben’s photo.

His photo is from his college graduation, one of the few family events that Luke chose to attend, and one of the few times Rey had shared a few words with Ben in person; it was the most recent photo Leia could find that was suitable for this memorium. He’s standing in front of one of those horrid navy-blue professional portrait backgrounds, his ears sticking out like mushrooms from his long face and his short dark hair. His smile is a little wide-eyed, a little stiff, and his bowtie is slightly crooked.

His death, and his twin’s disappearance, occurred a few months before Rey began working as a mechanic at the HK Shatterdome. The sudden loss of both twins was traumatic for Han and Leia, especially since Ben had only just persuaded Kylo to return to the fold after years—decades, really—of estrangement, and was one of the last in the series of Ranger casualties that finally pushed the UN to vote to decommission the Jaeger program in favor of the Wall program. 

Rey tilts her head and wonders fleetingly what sort of fighters the brothers had been. As a Ranger trainee until several months after Ben’s death, she never had the opportunity to watch Ben and Kylo jockey; and as a result of Kylo’s estrangement from the family, as well as Luke’s hermit-like existence at the Ranger training HQ in Germany, she’d never met Kylo in person, not even at Ben’s graduation. 

All she knows about Ben’s death and Kylo’s subsequent disappearance is what she’s been told mechanically by Luke; after a few successful drops, the brothers had clashed with one of the largest, most vicious Category 3 Kaiju to date, and that Ben had been thrown from the _Dark Knight_ and lost to the sea. Shortly after Kylo destroyed the Kaiju in a blind rage and barreled ashore, somewhere near the Shanghai Shatterdome, he’d slipped away from first responders and disappeared into the surrounding city. The first responders had reported that he was running a high fever, had suffered severe blood loss, and was possibly hallucinating; they had little hope that he’d survive a week on his own. Han and Leia could only assume that they’d lost both sons on the same day...

Rey becomes aware of deliberate, heavy footfalls plodding along, outside in the hallway. She turns and listens as the footsteps draw closer and closer before stopping outside the door of the memorium.

She watches as the door swings open slowly, and locks eyes with Ben Solo.

Except—no, something’s off. This man has Ben Solo’s face, his imposing height, his massive hands and strikingly soft-looking, crooked pink lips, but his hair is a shoulder-length mass of black waves, and his eyes are two smoldering points of light, and a dark, thick scar crawls down his right cheek like a bolt of lightning. The dim, unflatteringly palid light casts stark shadows across his angular face. His skin is unevenly tanned, his clothes are clean but coarse and well-worn, his bearing is older and aloof, and...something hangs about him, almost tangible, visible even. A shroud of dark, bitter cynicism; a well-worn veil of solitude; an ocean of grief. 

_Not Ben._

“Who are you?” Kylo Ren demands.

“I’m Rey,” Rey replies instinctively. Her voice sounds high and powerless in the cold steel room.

“Rey?” Kylo repeats, eyeing her intently. “Rey Solana? You’re Luke’s ward?”

“I _was_ his ward, yes.” Rey has been a legally independent adult for years now.

“What are you doing down here?” He says, his voice quiet, forceful. 

“I’m here every morning.”

Kylo’s intense gaze slides off of her to the line of photos behind her, and she watches as he zeroes in on his brother’s photo, and as a crease forms between his brows before he looks away.

“Why are you here?” Rey asks quietly.

He doesn’t answer, and gives her uniform a swift examination instead.

“You’re a mechanic,” he observes. “I thought you trained as a Ranger with Luke?”

“I’m both. I’ve been working as a mechanic, pending being assigned to a copilot. I worked on rehabilitating the _Dark Knight_ for your return.”

“I see.” He eyes her for a moment, appraising. “Will you be one of the candidates for my copilot, then?”

Rey shakes her head no.

“Why not?”

“Luke's orders.”

“Hmm.” Kylo sneers. “I see that Luke is still in the habit of being overprotective and telling people what’s best for them.”

Rey bristles. “He has his reasons.”

Kylo steps slowly into the room, and Rey suddenly finds herself backed up against the photos. She instinctively draws in on herself, making herself as small as possible. He pins her with that dark gaze of his for a moment, and Rey realizes then that he’s every bit as intense and unlikeable as Ben once jokingly told her.

“Doesn’t he always,” Kylo finally says, flatly. “Regardless, it's nice to finally meet you.”

“L-Likewise.” She knows that neither of them mean it.

“Strange, isn’t it, that this is the first time we’re meeting,” Kylo muses.

“I’m sure your leaving the family and changing your name had something to do with that,” Rey replies, a tad snippily.

“Oh yes,” Kylo replies smoothly. “You can also thank Ben’s death and my subsequent ‘highly-irresponsible’ disappearance too, while you’re at it.”

“Where were you for the past few years?” Rey asks. “All I was told was that someone found you, and was bringing you back in.”

Kylo gives her a look, and she looks away.

“Did you start here before or after the Jaeger program was decommissioned?” He asks, brazenly redirecting the conversation.

“I...I started right before it was decommissioned. We haven’t hired anyone new since the program was decommissioned and all resources were consolidated here in Hong Kong.”

“I see.” He mutters, and glances around them at the claustrophobic memorium. “Didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Leia chose this base,” Rey continues, the blood pounding in her ears, “because of the proximity to the breach. The UN gave us six months’ worth of funding and told us there wouldn’t be anymore after that. We’ve lost a lot of Rangers and Jaegers that we haven’t been able to replace...”

“That explains how empty the hangar was,” Kylo mutters. He glances down the line of photos again.

“Paige is gone too?” He observes.

“Yeah,” Rey says quietly.

Kylo grunts. His eyes flicker quickly from Paige’s photo back to Rey, and Rey can't help but to gulp as Kylo studies her for a moment with eyes that are just too intense for this time of day. It’s downright frightening, how similar he is to Ben, and yet how _different_. 

“What are you doing down here?” He asks again. This time, his voice is slightly more neutral.

Rey glances at the photos. “No one visits them anymore,” she says quietly. 

Kylo’s gaze also drifts to the photos, and Rey watches as his gaze is drawn almost inevitably to the photo of his twin.

“Thank you,” he mutters, not looking at her.

Rey maneuvers around Kylo and opens the door; her unease at being in a claustrophobic room with an unreadable stranger has been growing with every moment.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she says, and she steps outside and gently closes the door before hurrying away as quickly and quietly as she can.


	2. Chapter 2

“Attention,” someone calls to the crowd of unpaired pilots and interested spectators currently milling about in the combat training room, and everyone straightens to attention where they stand. A moment later, Rey hears the rapid tapping of boots, and Commander Amilyn Holdo enters, followed by Luke, and, after a slight pause, Kylo.

“At ease,” Holdo mutters, and the room relaxes. Her wild purple hair and rich blue eyes are the only spots of color on her; the rest of her is pale skin and thin lips and light gray uniform. She stands as straight as an iron rod, taller than most men in the room, and rail-thin; the economic, fluid movements of her body hint at a lifetime of training; her impassive face, etched with the strain of years of leadership, commands respect.

Behind her, Luke, still rarely seen about the base despite having lived here since the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, looks as gaunt and grave and tired as ever, and his pale gray-blue eyes are almost swallowed up in the gray of his hair and his uniform. His elderly, tired countenance and his slightly rumpled appearance would make him seem unremarkable to anyone else, but Rey knows better. He meets eyes with Rey, briefly.

And Kylo, wearing black sweats over his black training clothes, looks like a fucking stormcloud. Rey realizes as he steps into the room that this is probably the first time most people in the room have seen him since his return to the base, and watches as people struggle to contain their various reactions: fear, apprehension, skepticism, derision.

Kylo seems to take no notice, and stands wordlessly next to Luke, dwarfing the older man, as Holdo begins to speak.

“We’re here today to screen potential copilots for Kylo Ren aboard the restored _Dark Knight_ , which you all should know,” Holdo says, glancing around the room with her beam-like eyes. “If any of you have no business being here, please leave; otherwise, candidates, step forward.”

Rey hangs back as several candidates line up before Holdo. The rest of the crowd pushes back to the edges of the training mat, most not having any legitimate reason for attending, but still intent on staying. With the shortage of available Jaegers and unpaired pilots, a new Jaeger or copilot assignment is rare these days. Luke catches Rey’s eye again, and nods approvingly; she resists the urge to bristle, and looks away.

“All right,” Holdo says after swiftly taking roll. “Candidates, off to the side. Mitaka, you’re first.”

As Kylo and Dopheld Mitaka methodically strip down to their training clothes, remove their boots, and take up their practice staffs, a small group of people burst into the room. Rey turns, and her face breaks into a grin as she motions the latecomers over.

“Has anyone already gone?” Poe whisper-shouts as he hurries over.

“Shhh,” Finn and Rose simultaneously chide him, close on his heels.

“No,” Rey whispers. “Dopheld’s first.”

“Oh god,” Cassian winces. “He'll be torn to pieces.”

“Where's Jyn?” Rey asks.

Cassian shrugs. “Probably napping.”

“And Zorii?” Rey asks Jannah, who also shrugs.

“Their loss,” Cassian whispers, grinning. Rey knows that there is little love lost between Kylo and Cassian, both of whom were recruited during the Golden Age of the Jaeger program. Then again, Kylo hasn’t really been missed by anyone, it seems.

Meanwhile, Mitaka has bravely taken up his position across from Kylo, and Rey watches as the two men circle each other. Mitaka looks calm, if not a little pale; Kylo, imposing even in a plain black tank top and loose black sweatpants, looks intent, and maybe a little too eager. A few people in the crowd of onlookers call out words of generic encouragement; Kylo doesn't seem to notice.

Then, there's a flash of movement, and Mitaka is lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Holdo suppresses a sigh and makes a mark on her clipboard. “Next.”

Holdo, Luke, and Kylo seem to be the only ones unfazed by the startlingly brief match. The rest of the room watches, now silent and a little tense, as Mitaka picks himself off the floor and throws Kylo a nervous glance as he walks off the mat, and as Kylo repositions himself. There is no victorious smirk on Kylo’s face; just an intent expression of high alertness, like a wolf on the hunt.

Holdo glances up. “Wexley, you’re next.”

The next candidate, a burly man who goes by Snap, lumbers onto the mat, eyeing Kylo with poorly veiled apprehension. He lifts his training staff as a silent indication that he’s ready. And Kylo _flies_ at him.

Unlike with Dopheld, Kylo does not take out Snap with a single blow; instead, he begins a series of taunts, jabbing and whacking lightly at Snap with impressive speed and agility. Poor Snap is unable to keep up with Kylo—Snap’s strength has always been his raw power and heavyweight tactics—and the room watches, some impassive and others embarrassed or irritated, as Kylo continues to taunt him.

As the fight drags on, Snap becomes visibly frustrated and a little red in the face, and begins lashing out at Kylo with abandon; the room is soon ringing with Snap’s bellows. Finally, _finally_ , Kylo moves in with a decisive blow, and Snap ends up on the ground on his back, exactly like Dopheld.

As Snap gets to his feet and barrels off in a huff, Rey feels anger rising in herself as well, and she glares openly at Kylo. In his moment of respite, Kylo looks up quickly and sees Rey glaring at him, and a small but unmistakable shit-eating smirk tugs at his face before he turns and paces in a slow circle, twirling his staff in one hand with practiced ease as he gears himself up for his next match.

“Why is he doing that?” Finn whispers.

“What?”

“He took out Dopheld in a second, but he made Snap go for almost 2 minutes. Why did he toy around so much with Snap?”

Rey puffs a sigh. “He isn’t fighting to match with anyone.”

“What’s he doing, then?” Rose asks incredulously.

“He’s fighting to provoke. To embarrass. He’s using their insecurities and their weaknesses against them.” Rey can feel herself getting angrier just thinking about it. “He took out Dopheld without giving him a chance to fight back, and he made Snap dance like a...a _circus bear_.”

Rey’s friends stare between her and Kylo as she glares at him, and as he meets her eyes again, the infuriating smirk still on his face.

Kylo spars with each of the remaining candidates, and with every match, Rey’s theory is further confirmed; he doesn’t take the same approach with each candidate, but takes swift stock of their character as they walk onto the mat before him, and draws out what he thinks might be their weaknesses as they fight. His matches elicit all manner of reactions from the crowd, with some cheering raucously and others booing equally enthusiastically, until Holdo barks out a command for silence.

In a way, his technique and skill are admirable; breathtaking, even. Rey cannot deny that despite his long absence from the base, he has clearly maintained his fighting skills. He dispatches every one of his potential copilots with relative ease, even managing to beat the swift, agile Jessika Pava, young but powerful, as well as the older, more seasoned Gial Ackbar, who is seldom met with defeat in the ring.

As the last candidate leaves the mat, limping slightly but holding his chin up determinedly, Holdo stares down at her clipboard, brow knit.

“Is that it?” Kylo calls, pacing in a slow circle on the mat, his eyes sweeping over the occupants of the room. “Is that the best the Jaeger program has to offer? The Golden Age truly is no more. Unless,” he says, turning and pinning Luke suddenly with his stare, “you’ve been holding back on me, Luke?”

Luke’s face remains impassive. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do. There’s one more candidate in this room, and we both know who it is.”

Rey feels her heartbeat kick up a notch, and casts her eyes down, holding her breath, not daring to look at either Kylo or Luke. Nevertheless, she can feel people in the room shifting and craning their necks to look at her. She feels the skin of her neck begin to burn with a blush.

“Not her,” Luke says, a slight edge to his voice.

“What’s the matter?” Kylo’s voice is still perfectly even, like the purr of a well-oiled car engine. “Afraid your best isn’t good enough for me?”

“She isn’t ready.” Luke isn’t one to be manipulated.

“She looks more than ready, Luke.”

Rey looks up then, into Kylo’s eyes. He’s no longer smirking, but he still has that expression on his face; he looks as though he knows something that no one else in the room knows. Perhaps he does, Rey thinks, wildly.

Commander Holdo, silent until now, turns to Luke. “We have no other candidates to screen, Luke,” she says. “And you know that we’re not getting any new pilots anytime soon.”

Luke gives Holdo his “we talked about this” glare, from which she does not back down. His gaze flickers then to Kylo’s even stare, then to Rey’s wide-eyed, half-eager, half-afraid stare, and finally to the rest of the room.

“You can’t protect her forever,” Kylo says quietly.

The whole room holds its breath.

After a tense eternity, Luke steps back slowly and inclines his head, his eyes burning.

The crowd of people around Rey draws away, and she suddenly finds herself standing alone at the edge of the mat.

After an uncomfortable beat, someone taps her on the shoulder, and she turns.

“I’ll hold onto your things,” Rose whispers. “Go get him.”

Rey nods shortly to Rose, and bends down to unlace her boots.

The silence in the room is broken by excited, apprehensive murmurs. Rey removes her navy-blue mechanic’s shirt, revealing a plain black thermal undershirt. She hands her things to Rose, and tries to wipe her sweaty palms on her pants as subtly as possible as she walks slowly onto the mat.

Dopheld holds out his staff, which Rey accepts with a quick, distracted smile.

And then she’s standing before Kylo Ren, before all of his height and bulk and speed and power. He spares her a moment before he begins to circle, forcing her to follow suit.

Rey swallows as she maintains her distance. All of her training with Luke, all of those excruciating hours of conditioning and sparring and sitting cross-legged in deep meditation until her knees ached and her thighs were numb, the countless cuts and bruises and blisters, the sweat and the tears—all of it has culminated in this moment. And Rey knows that she must regain control of her nerves, she must bury her fear. She must believe that she can do this.

Because she _can_ do this.

_I can do this._

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Rey says, and her voice is even.

“You got this, Rey!” Someone shouts from behind her—probably Poe.

“Do you?” Kylo asks, equally quietly, ignoring Poe; then, peering intently into her face: “Ah, you do.”

Rey catches a glimpse of his smirk before he flies at her.

Their staffs fly through the air; Rey is fighting almost entirely on instinct. The crowd around them seems to melt away, suddenly. Her mind is entirely occupied by the man before her, by his brutal speed, his breathtaking agility; it’s all she can do to dart out of the way of his blows, to parry where she can, to keep a constant lookout for potential openings.

_Focus_.

She parries another blow, and spots an opening, and her staff flies through the air with a whistle before she can even place the one thought after the other, and there’s a _thwack_ … And Rey realizes that she’s landed the first blow.

Kylo straightens and stares down at her with an unreadable expression, and then, ever so slowly, his unmarred cheek creases. And he’s smiling at her.

The spectators are shouting, but Rey can’t make out the individual voices or words, can barely even hear the roar; her attention is now entirely zeroed in on the fight. As Kylo backs away a step resumes his circling, she can see that her intense focus is reciprocated. A bolt of pure electricity shoots up her spine.

A little encouraged, she makes the first move, and they re-engage in the complex dance, the whirlwind of limbs and staffs and blows and parries and evasions. Kylo swiftly drops to the ground, and Rey isn’t able to leap out of the way in time; he swings his staff and knocks her feet out from under her, and Rey lands on her backside. Wincing, she rises to her feet as quickly as she can, now completely oblivious to the whooping of the spectators, her staff immediately at the ready.

She isn’t sure how much time passes. They trade blows and parries, chasing each other up and down the mat. She feels herself sinking deeper and deeper into this zone that they’ve created, and wonders fleetingly if they’re actually beginning to read each other’s minds; there is no other explanation for the thrilling smoothness, the supreme balance of their sparring. It feels almost as though they’ve done this before, countless times. Every neuron, every fiber of her being feels deliciously on fire, and is only stoked to higher and higher flames with every movement of their bodies, every glimpse of his eyes.

They’re locked in another rapid sequence of moves and countermoves, and Rey, without thinking, snaps her staff in half over her thigh and uses one half to block his flying swing and the other half to land a blow on his ribs as he grinds to a halt before her. He springs away and _laughs_.

“—I said that’s _enough_!” Commander Holdo is shouting, and someone’s hand clamps down on Rey’s upper arm. Rey turns with a half-snarl, and realizes with a start that it’s Luke holding her back, his flinty eyes fixed unblinkingly on her, his expression stern. She immediately relaxes—

—and the roar of the spectators hits her like a truck.

Wincing at the sudden onslaught of noise and light, Rey blinks, once, twice, as she descends back into reality. Her senses dull and her nerves settle to a hum; she focuses on the feel of the plastic mat under the soles of her feet, the two halves of Dopheld’s training staff clenched in her hands, the grounding effect of Luke’s hand on her arm. She realizes now that she’s panting, hard, and her muscles are already aching. There are probably bruises already forming on her ribs and legs. But she feels—she feels amazing. She feels _alive_.

Is this what it feels like to discover your copilot?

As Holdo shouts impatiently for silence, Rey glances back at Kylo, who, yanked out of whatever headspace he was in, is hunched forward slightly, his back and shoulders heaving with every breath, his face and neck and exposed collarbones shining with sweat. The thick, corded muscles of his shoulders and arms roll as he straightens and stretches, wincing.

And then he’s looking at her with an expression that she doesn’t quite understand.

And Holdo is saying to him, wryly: “I think we’ve found your copilot.”


	3. Chapter 3

Rey stares at herself in a mirror in the women’s barracks bathroom, her hands braced on either side of the sink. Her face is dripping wet, and tiny droplets of water cling to her eyelashes. She examines her thin, sunken face, her pitifully spare arms and narrow chest, her huge, childlike eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” She mutters to herself.

Luke was right, she decides, as she rubs her face roughly with her towel and marches back to her room. Even with her extensive training, even with her years’ worth of hard work, she isn’t ready for this. Sparring with someone is easy; _drifting_ with them is something else entirely. And she can’t begin to imagine what it will be like to have someone else look into her and see the pitiful mess of an adult she’s turned out to be.

“Ugh,” Rey groans, partly with self-disgust and partly with dread, and rounds the corner in the hallway—

—and comes face to face with Kylo, who’s standing outside her room, looking as chill and unbothered as a wolf in respite. The corner of his mouth twitches slightly at the sight of her damp hair and rubbed-raw face.

“Oh god,” Rey mutters involuntarily.

“Why ‘oh god’?”

“What are you doing in the women’s wing?” Rey demands, stopping as far away from him as she politely can.

Kylo frowns. “What’s with the sudden change in attitude?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Rey huffs.

He eyes her for a moment. “Fine. I walked into the women’s wing because no one stopped me, and because I wanted to talk to you.” He huffs. “If you’re uncomfortable with me being here, we could go somewhere else?”

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Rey says. She unlocks her door and tosses her towel onto its hook on the wall, closes the door, re-locks it, and looks apprehensively at Kylo.

“Actually,” she says quietly, “I wanted to talk to you too.”

He peers down at her for a long moment. “Second thoughts?”

“You too?”

He sighs, and motions for her to follow. They forego the utility elevator and take the stairs down to the hangar.

“What’s making you have second thoughts?” He asks as they descend.

“How much do you know about me?” Rey counters. The stairway is fairly narrow, and Rey finds herself pressing slightly to the wall to keep from brushing up against him.

“Not much,” Kylo admits. “Just that Luke and Leia were aboard the _Aegis_ on their last mission, fighting a Kaiju until Leia was critically injured. Luke jockeyed solo until the Kaiju was dead, and managed to pull you out of the wreckage of the fight before the rescue team arrived…”

“That’s about how we met, yeah,” Rey says. “All that was about fifteen years ago. I was…” Rey shrugs. “I was in a rough place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did Luke tell you that I was orphaned?”

Kylo stares at her levelly. “No, he failed to mention that.”

“Well, I apparently showed up at an orphanage when I was an infant. I bounced around from foster home to foster home, and was eventually adopted by...” Rey swallows. “Well, I guess Luke puts it best. I would bring a lot of pain and emotions into the drift, and I’m not good enough at controlling the flow of those memories to be trusted to drift with someone.”

It still hurts sometimes, more than she'd like to acknowledge. Sometimes, it hurts enough to keep her from sleeping, from eating.

“That does sound like something Luke would say,” Kylo scoffs.

“But don’t you see?” Rey says miserably as they walk into the hangar. “I’m far more likely to do harm than good in a Jaeger. It doesn’t matter that I’m a good fighter; it doesn’t even matter that I’ve found a copilot. I would endanger everyone.”

“It’s odd,” Kylo muses after a moment as they look about the dim, high-ceilinged room. The remaining handful of Jaegers, taller than skyscrapers, stand in their respective mounts and supports along the mostly-empty walls; the upper halves of their metallic bodies are shrouded in darkness and partly obscured by scaffolding and suspended skywalks. The cement floor, marked with intricate traffic signs and designations, was obviously designed to support a much higher volume of traffic than it experiences now; even at peak work hours, the hangar is eerily quiet, and the few engineers, mechanics, and construction workers that are on duty are hard at work, hurrying from one part of the hangar to another in trolleys and on foot, unnecessarily adhering to the complex traffic designs on the ground.

“What is?” Rey asks.

“I was going to warn you of the same thing,” he says. “Painful memories, dark past. I have those things too. It’s what made drifting with Ben so easy; he already knew everything I wanted to hide, and I already knew everything he wanted to hide; we started out on equal footing. But with a stranger…” Kylo eyes Rey. “It’s harder. To watch someone learn your deepest, darkest secrets, and to wonder if they’ll judge you forever for them.”

“Exactly,” Rey whispers.

“In a way, it's the perfect coincidence,” Kylo says as they continue walking further into the hangar, following the foot traffic lanes.

“What?” Rey says bitterly. “That we just happen to be two damaged people throwing our emotional baggage on each other?”

He grins at her then, a real grin. “Exactly.”

Rey scoffs. They've arrived at the back of the hangar, where the crowd of workers is thinnest and the lights are most dim. To the left, imposing even in its years-old dilapidated state, stands the remains of the dread _Brawler_ ; next to that stands the _Inferno_ , the shredded remains of Paige’s side of the body cut and stripped away, its incendiary weapons mostly dismantled and recycled into parts for other Jaegers, its now-useless metallic shell shining brilliantly even in the dim light.

And to the right…

“Ah,” Kylo murmurs. 

The _Dark Knight_ stands in its fully restored glory, its nuclear reactor heart gleaming in the dim light, its helmet-like head and bulky arms cutting an intimidating silhouette. Kylo and Rey walk slowly onto the deck surrounding the _Dark Knight'_ s stall, and Rey watches with satisfaction as the tightness in Kylo’s face melts away at the sight of the Jaeger.

“She looks like new,” Kylo says, his voice soft, almost worshipful.

“Better than new,” Rey replies, smiling at the culmination of her hard work. “That's a solid iron hull on her now; no alloys. Forty engine blocks per muscle strand. Hyper-torque drivers in every limb...and a new fluid synapse system. The nuclear heart is brand new, too.”

“I noticed. What was wrong with the old one?”

“Nothing in particular. I just improved it.”

“Improved?” Kylo glances at her, smiling.

“Han managed to get the materials I needed to make some upgrades. It's far more efficient now. There are some additional safeguards built in now, too,” Rey clarifies.

“Han, huh?” Kylo mutters. “Putting his black market connections to good use. Nothing much has changed at all, I see.”

Rey looks at him for a long moment. “Have you talked to your mother?”

Kylo’s gaze darts quickly to her, his expression unreadable. “Does this have to happen before we drift?” He finally mutters, looking away.

Rey looks at him expectantly. He sighs.

“You asked me why I was here, and where I’ve been these past few years? Well,” he says, “I was with the Wall program.”

Rey mock-gasps. “You went to the competition?”

Kylo exhales a tired laugh. “It seemed like the Wall program was the victor at the time. The Kaiju were eating up resources faster than the Jaeger program could generate, and there was promising research backing the Wall program… Anyway, I went to Australia, then Alaska. I worked on the walls there.”

He shakes his head ruefully. “The Australian wall was under construction long before I arrived there. So much time and research was put into that thing. And yet, not even three days after we completed it…”

“Cat-3 Kaiju tore through it in an hour,” Rey finishes. “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“Yeah. Well, the Australian Wall program pretty much lost all public support after that. Understandably so. But I pushed on to Alaska. We were told that scientists evaluated the tactics and the damage done by the Kaiju that broke through the Australian wall, and that the Alaskan wall would be taller, stronger, better…”

“Cat-4 tore through that before it was finished,” Rey recalls. “Happened just a month or two ago.”

“Right again.” Kylo smirks at her. “And Leia, as always, had perfect timing.”

“What do you mean?”

“She must have followed my whereabouts for years to know that I was at the Australian and Alaskan walls; I don’t see how she could have found me otherwise. She bided her time, betting on the Wall program to fail...and it did. Spectacularly. After the Alaskan wall fell, she flew out to Alaska, found me, and re-recruited me.”

“She went to Alaska?” Rey is incredulous; she doesn’t recall Leia being absent from the Shatterdome recently.

“Yeah. Seeing her come out of a helicopter, with her hair all done up, all the works…” Kylo waves his hand vaguely about his head. “After years of not seeing her, it was like seeing a vision.”

He pauses thoughtfully. “Or being punched in the gut.”

“How did she get you to come back?”

“Ben,” he says simply.

“Ben?”

“She told me she needed me back to help carry out some...some finale mission; she didn’t go into it much. She persuaded me that Ben’s death would have been in vain if I stopped fighting.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Rey says, “but…”

“It seems cold-hearted and manipulative?” Kylo barks out a dry laugh. “I agree completely, and at first, I was angry with her for using Ben’s death like that. But the thing about Leia is that she’s always right, one way or another.” 

“So you came back for Ben,” Rey says quietly.

“Contrary to popular belief, I am not a heartless snake,” Kylo chides lightly. “I _am_ capable of love. And I did love my brother. And I still do. He was the only person in our family who had absolutely zero expectations for me to fulfill. If he hadn’t kept in touch with me during all those years I was away, I would almost certainly be dead by now. And… I’ve wanted to see him again, in the drift.”

Rey looks up at him for a long moment, and he chuckles at the solemnity of her expression.

“If you wanted back in, then why did you go antagonizing all of those candidates?” Rey says with a huff, turning away from Kylo to stare up at the _Brawler_.

“I wasn’t _antagonizing_ them. I just knew none of them were right.”

“How did you know?”

“There are very few people in this world who can handle me.” His face takes on that smug expression again. “Did you seriously think any of them could have handled drifting with _me_?”

“Well, no, but—”

“I rest my case.”

“That’s still no reason to be such a jerk,” Rey snaps. “We’re all fighting for the same thing, after all.”

He looks at her for a moment. “You sound just like Ben.”

“Clearly Ben knew a thing or two about basic decency.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not a trick I’m about to learn anytime soon.”

Rey screws up her face and turns away from Kylo again. He’s silent behind her for a moment.

“I’m the wrong one for this,” he mutters after a beat. She turns to examine his face; he’s staring upward, his eyes distant.

“What do you mean?”

“It shouldn’t have been Ben.” He’s staring at the _Dark Knight_. “It should have been me.”

\---

A message pops up on Rey’s phone later that evening.

_First drift tomorrow at 0800._

Rey’s mouth goes dry as she turns off her phone. Before going their separate ways, she and Kylo had agreed to at least attempt to drift. They are combat compatible, after all, and it seemed from their short conversation in the hangar that their personalities were (mostly? relatively? at least potentially?) compatible as well; and, after setting a mutually-understood expectation regarding their difficult pasts and painful memories and emotions, she’d felt more comfortable, safe even, agreeing to attempt a test drift with him.

And she’s always wanted to be a Ranger, hasn’t she? She’s wanted this ever since Luke saved her.

Rey switches off her lamp and climbs into bed, trying to fight off the wave of unease that closes in with the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are doing okay!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you watched Pacific Rim, then you know how the first drift is going to go...

“Are you all right?” Kylo asks, his voice distorted by the comm system of the _Dark Knight_. 

“Yeah.” Rey tests the mobility of her limbs , her torso, her neck. The Jaeger combat suit, which required the help of two other workers to put on, is even more restrictive than the training ones she’s used to from her simulator sessions; the visor of the helmet limits her peripheral vision, the lights in the helmet make it difficult for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the chamber, and it takes so much strength just to move a single limb up and down, or to turn her head from side to side. She turns to look at Kylo, who stands towering over her on the left side of the chamber, his scarred side facing her, as he flexes and turns his arms, testing his suit as well.

“Better than when I was last in here,” he grunts.

“Really?” Rey mutters, pulling on her arm again and resenting the resistance of the arm control. One of the wires from the row of electrodes along her hairline falls into her face, and she tosses her head in a vain attempt to throw it out of her face.

_I’m not ready for this_ , Rey thinks to herself glumly as she drops her arm back to her side.

Kylo looks at her for a moment. “Do you know what to expect in a drift?”

“I think so.”

“The thing that trips people up the most is the physical sensations. Things can get weird… You might feel a bit nauseous. Don’t let that interfere with your concentration.”

“I know,” Rey replies automatically.

“Do you?” He peers into her face, and grins. “Ah. You do.”

\---

Poe hurries onto the deck, where a crowd of workers, unpaired pilots, Rangers, and other personnel has gathered to witness the new pair undergo their first drift together. He steps up on his toes and cranes his neck around until he spots his copilot.

“Finn!” He yells over the heads of multiple people, who turn and glare at him as he rushes to Finn’s side. Finn grins and claps his copilot on the back.

“You talk to Rey yet?” Poe asks, catching his breath.

“No. None of us have seen her since she sparred with Kylo yesterday.”

“Move fast on this station,” Zorii observes, standing composedly next to Jannah and watching all of the movement around her with calm green eyes. Before Kylo had arrived on base, Zorii Blazhenstovna was the newcomer among the Rangers; she’d been reassigned from the Siberian Shatterdome, and was quickly paired with Jannah aboard the _Rising Tide_ , a Jaeger uniquely equipped for aquatic combat.

“Nothing else to do,” Jannah replies wryly. “Nothing except fighting Kaiju.” Jannah Naomi, a Grenadan Ranger who trained in the UK before being assigned to the HK Shatterdome, possesses the build, immovable strength, and inexplicably comforting presence of an oak tree, her queenly afro only adding to her already-imposing height. 

“Cassian told me about their match yesterday,” Jyn pipes up. “Said it was like nothing he’d ever seen.”

“That about sums it up,” Rose replies. “I’ve never seen two pilots match the way they did.”

“Odd, isn’t it?” Cassian muses. “I would never have guessed. Our quiet, sweet Rey with that…”

“Don’t be mean,” Jyn chides, to which Cassian scoffs.

“Attention,” someone calls, and the spectators on the deck barely have enough time to stand to attention before Former Commissioner Leia rounds the corner, followed closely by Luke and Commander Holdo. Leia’s hair, now entirely gray, is pulled back neatly from her face and wound into an immaculate coiffure; her uniform is fresh, every wrinkle smoothed out and every stray thread cut away; her posture is straight, dignified; her makeup is subtle and flawless. She looks every bit the diplomat-turned-Commissioner that she became after putting away her career as a Ranger. And even though her position, with the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, is now mostly symbolic, she commands no less respect among the personnel at the Shatterdome, nor among her many international contacts.

“At ease,” Holdo commands immediately, and the deck resumes its anticipatory buzz as the trio of former Rangers ascends the steps into the command center.

“How are they looking?” Leia asks anxiously as she strides past the rows of screens and the handful of crew members that sit in front of them, one to every five screens. In front of the patchwork of windows and screens that overlooks the deck and the hangar floor, including the various Jaegers in their stalls, stands Han Solo, his good arm braced against the dash of the main terminal, his face screwed into a frown as he scrutinizes the work of the poor mission control ops member typing commands into the main terminal and frantically scanning readings.

Han still wears his Ranger uniform daily, out of habit, even though he’s been retired since the deaths of his copilots and the decommissioning of the _Falcon_ years ago. His left arm had suffered extensive damage during his last jockey, and, though his metal implant surgery had been successful, his arm is heavily scarred and largely immobile. He spends most of his time in the hangar alongside the engineers and construction workers, or out exploring the gray market for materials for Jaeger parts otherwise unattainable.

Han looks up, and straightens at the sight of the three other former Rangers. “So far so good,” he says, his voice not much above a growl. “All systems are online and running smoothly. Brain waves look good, they both seem calm… Rey and Rose did a great job with the neural network.”

“Have you talked to him?” Leia asks quietly.

Han shakes his head slowly, once, and looks away. “We saw each other, all right, but…”

Leia smiles sadly at him for a moment and gazes briefly at the tinted visor of the _Dark Knight_ , before turning to the ops member sitting in front of the main terminal. “Are we ready to go, Bodhi?”

Officer Bodhi Rook glances up at the four former Rangers who now stand hovering over him. He swallows and looks back at his screen. _The home dashboard, Bodhi, go to the home dashboard_. He switches screen displays and pulls up the dashboard, where all basic metrics display green. 

“We seem good to go, sir...sirs. Ma’ams,” he says, trying valiantly to sound more confident than he feels. “I’ve gone through all the initial checks. I don’t see a reason to stop things now.”

“All right.” Holdo holds down the button for the deck intercom and swiftly orders that the deck be cleared. As the spectators reluctantly leave the _Dark Knight_ ’s deck and crowd instead onto the neighboring decks, Holdo next pulls the microphone connecting to the _Dark Knight_ ’s comm system and unmutes.

“How are you guys holding up?” She speaks into the mic.

“Good,” Kylo replies stoically.

“Good,” Rey echoes, less stoically, less convincingly.

Holdo glances at the readings on Bodhi’s screen. “Rey, you’re spiking. I’m going to need you to calm down before we can proceed.”

“Yes ma’am.” Rey does her best to relax, utilizing Luke’s breathing and meditation exercises to lower her heart rate and anxiety. Her readings smooth out gradually; Bodhi nods to Holdo.

“All right,” Holdo says into the mic. “If you’re both ready.”

Leia takes hold of Han’s good hand; he squeezes reassuringly, despite his own racing heart. Luke stands to the side, silent, impassive, his arms crossed, his eyes focused intently on the still-dark visor of the _Dark Knight_.

“We’re ready,” Kylo replies, his voice pure steel.

Bodhi waits for acknowledgement from the rest of the mission control crew, confirming that all systems are ready, before entering the initialization command. 

“Drift initiating in 3… 2… 1…”

\---

The first thing Rey feels is a sudden, stomach-dropping vacuum sensation. It feels as though everything but the very outer layer of her being is sucked out of her body, leaving her a boneless, shapeless, helpless mass. A pale blue light flashes blindingly before her; she can’t tell if she’s actually seeing it or if her body is just malfunctioning. Her first reaction is panic.

“Don’t be afraid,” Kylo says, and his voice isn’t coming through the _Dark Knight_ ’s comm system anymore. It’s coming from someplace she can’t identify. It’s coming from _inside_ her.

“Don’t be afraid,” his voice says again, soothingly. “I feel it too.”

“Where are you?” She can’t help but to cry out.

“I’m right here.”

“I can’t see you.”

“Can’t you feel me?”

Rey closes her eyes. She can feel a strong, warm, thrumming presence, as though someone is standing right next to her. “Yes… I don’t understand it.”

“You don’t have to. Just let go.” His last words fade to a whisper.

She’s falling, now, in a tunnel of pale blue light, falling endlessly. She watches as images flicker around her in the light, ranging from photographic likenesses of people and places to abstract, unfamiliar things that evoke strange but crystal-clear emotions in her.

She sees two young children with identical mops of black hair chasing each other around a yard of lush green grass, their smiles perfectly identical; she hears their breathless laughter.

She sees a warm golden glow haloing a family of four on a beach; the sun shines relentlessly down on them, unobstructed by any scrap of cloud in the deep azure sky; the sand is bone-white and powder-soft between her toes, the water clear as light; the air tastes of salt and sunscreen and pure happiness, and Rey’s mind echoes pleasantly with the sounds of shouting and laughter. She sees two gangly boys splashing and wading in the water; on the beach, she spots Leia and Han, younger, radiant, their bodies still unbroken, their smiles unpolluted, sitting under a beach umbrella and looking on with silent contentment.

The gold rapidly fades to gray; something dark looms over her now, and she looks around and finds herself on a train; in the back corner, sitting pressed up against the window, is a young Kylo, barely out of his teenage years, a duffel bag lying across his lap. His eyes are red and swollen with tears both shed and unshed, but his youthful face is set. The laughter that rang in her mind turns to screaming and shouting and quiet sobbing, and Rey finds herself being dragged down by dejection, disappointment, raw, newly-inflicted pain. Rey feels her heart sinking in her chest, and turns away, unable to watch.

Whispers. She realizes then that a cloud of whispers is settling around her, caging her in.

“ _Why can't you be more like Ben?_ ” “ _You can do better._ ” “ _There's a darkness in him, Han_.” “ _What do you mean, we don't love you?_ ”

The words seem to blow past her in toneless gusts. She folds her arms around herself in a vain attempt to block them out. Teenage Kylo’s mouth quivers, and he buries his face in his hands.

“ _You were born to do this. It's in your blood._ ” “ _You can't run from responsibility._ ”

Then, a jarringly loud, hissing voice: “ _This is who you are._ ”

The vision disintegrates like dust in the wind. Rey finds herself passing in and out of impressions of places and people she does not recognize, cities and lights and sensations and even tastes that are all beyond her knowledge.

She sees Ben and Kylo standing in the pilot chamber of the _Dark Knight_ , talking in low voices; she sees Ben’s eyes, blown wide with terror, moments before a searing, artificial pain rips through the right side of her body, through her eyes, through her mind, through her very soul; she’s still screaming from the pain and the devastating sense of loss when she finds herself teetering at the top of the wall in Sydney, and when she finds herself standing in days-old snow, surrounded on all sides by impossibly tall walls of iron, the almost-deafening roar of construction blanketing over her, suffocating her.

She sees...herself?

She moves closer; sure enough, it's a vision of herself, barefoot in her black thermal undershirt and navy-blue mechanic’s pants, suffused with a strange glow, staring at the line of photos in the dim memorium; the vision of herself turns quickly and stares back at her with wide, glittering, bewitching eyes. Rey sees that it's bearing the two halves of Dopheld’s staff in its slender hands.

“I know,” it says, simply. It smiles.

Rey decides, as the tunnel finally fades and reality settles back into her bones, that the nausea is the least of her concerns. 

“Rey?”

Someone is calling to her. She gives her head a thorough shake and finds herself standing, somehow still upright, in the pilot chamber of the _Dark Knight_ , her mouth dry, her chest heaving.

“Rey?” It’s Kylo’s voice. Moments ago, she’d been the sole inhabitant of her own mind; now, next to her own consciousness, running in parallel, she can sense a foreign presence—a strong, calmer one, a river next to her wild, raw electrical current. Kylo’s mind brushes against hers, his words thought rather than spoken, and it feels strangely like she is calling to herself.

“I’m okay,” Rey says. Her words come out garbled and unruly; she tries again. “I’m okay.”

“Rey?” It’s Luke’s voice, and it comes through the _Dark Knight_ ’s comm system. Strange; it sounds distant and fake next to Kylo’s voice in her mind.

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m okay,” she responds automatically.

“How do you feel?”

“Good, given the circumstances.”

“Okay. Take a moment to get used to each other’s presence.”

Rey freezes, then, and remembers that Kylo has seen as much of her past as she’s seen of his. When she turns to look at him, he’s staring at her expressionlessly. His wordless thoughts and emotions intermingle with hers; she detects something that isn’t quite pity, but is nonetheless discomforting.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

“I am too,” she murmurs back.

“Ready to proceed?” Holdo’s voice interjects.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Proceed with physical tests.”

“What should we do?” Rey whispers to Kylo. 

“Let’s just go through some basic forms,” Kylo says. Their consciousnesses circle each other, and they seem to settle on a form simultaneously. Rey clings to her breathing techniques as they begin to move in tandem, stepping forward from the mounts and scaffolding as the clamps are released.

There’s clapping from the deck, as well as a few isolated cheers and whoops—probably Poe.

“Everything’s looking good,” Luke says over the comm. “Just keep taking things slow.”

Something echoes in Rey’s mind; she isn’t sure whether it’s from her or Kylo. Regardless, she feels a potent spike of panic and fear.

“ _Kylo, listen to me_ —”

Ben’s voice clangs in her mind; she watches as the claw of the Kaiju flashes out of seemingly nowhere, sinks into Ben’s half of the chamber, and yanks, tearing Ben physically and mentally from Kylo. The searing pain was bad enough during the drift initialization; it’s even more potent now, even more debilitating. 

Rey watches helplessly as Ben flies out of sight, his screams swallowed up by the roar of the Kaiju, and the loss of him cuts deep into her, cuts her to the quick. She turns from the gut-wrenching memory and stumbles right into one of her own.

“ _Rey, honey, you can’t stay here anymore. Someone’s finally adopting you! Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?_ ”

Rey’s eyes are suddenly full of panicked tears. She needs to stay. How else will her real parents find her? She’s never wanted to be adopted. She _can’t_ be adopted. She needs to stay.

“ _Rey?_ ”

\---

“You’re both out of alignment,” Holdo shouts into the microphone as Bodhi panics in front of the beeping terminal; several metrics have rocketed into the red zone.

“I know,” Kylo pants, ripping off his helmet and some of the electrodes along with it, regaining control over his emotions with some difficulty. “I caused it. I’m all right now.”

“You’re fine,” Holdo says, “but she isn’t. She’s gone after the rabbit.”

“What?” Kylo turns to Rey and sees that she’s standing stock-still, her eyes fixed on a distant point.

“Rey?” Kylo lunges for her, as far as the apparatus will let him. “Rey, don’t chase the memory. Come back. Rey—”

“She’s in too deep,” Holdo shouts. “We’re going to attempt a manual shutdown.”

Kylo throws his helmet aside, detaches himself from the apparatus, and hurries to Rey’s side. 

“Rey, I need you to snap out of it. I need you to come back to me. Rey? Can you hear me? Rey?”

\---

In the command center, the whole room has erupted in controlled, protocoled panic. Luke, Han, Holdo, and Bodhi, along with a few other ops members, frantically shut down systems and pull plugs, to no avail. Leia turns and sees that the rest of the ops members are fluttering about their stations in uncertainty, and begins waving her arms and shouting, in every language she knows, “Get out of here!”

“Cut the main power supply,” Han shouts to Bodhi, who holds up the plug he just pulled.

“I just did,” he pants.

They both look to the _Dark Knight_ ; not only has it failed to power down, it is now charging the plasmacaster on Rey’s side, aiming it directly at the glass. There is a commotion on the deck as the mission control crew stream out of the command center and away from the Jaeger, and on neighboring decks as spectators do the same. The intercom is picking up Kylo’s panicked shouts; Rey is eerily silent.

“Shit,” Bodhi says breathlessly.


	5. Chapter 5

“Is there anything we can do?” Finn yells as they run for the nearest exit.

“No,” Zorii and Jannah shout simultaneously.

“Maybe the _Aegis_ could shield us from the blast?” Poe yells above the commotion.

“Hasn’t been deployed or even turned on in years,” Rose shouts back.

Poe’s face breaks into a grin, which Finn sees.

“Poe, don’t you even _think_ —”

“Let’s try it!” And Poe’s barreling headlong towards the decommissioned Jaeger.

It’s not a bad idea, really; the _Aegis_ wasn’t given its name without good reason. Designed specifically as a defense-oriented vessel, with only limited long-range attacks at its disposal, the _Aegis_ was borne out of a need to shield cities, to absorb blows. 

“Poe!!” Finn yells at the top of his lungs. “We barely know how to pilot the _Blitzkrieg_! How are we supposed to…” He gives up trying to reason with Poe from afar, and changes course and chases furiously after his copilot.

“You guys! Awww, man, come _on_ ,” Rose exclaims, following suit.

“You don’t have to go with them, Rose!” Cassian yells to her.

“They can’t unclamp the _Aegis_ without an override code,” Rose shouts over her shoulder.

“It’s fucking suicide!”

“I fucking _know_!”

“ _Fuuuuck_ —”

Zorii and Jannah hurriedly backtrack when they realize that the rest have fallen behind. “Where the hell are they going?” Jannah demands.

“They’re going to activate the _Aegis_ and shield the Shatterdome from the _Dark Knight_ ’s plasmacaster,” Cassian spits.

“They might die!” Zorii exclaims.

“They’ve been informed,” Cassian reassures Zorii dryly.

“I’ll help them,” Jyn pipes up suddenly. “Cassian, Jannah, Zorii, you guys get everyone as far from here as you can.”

Cassian looks aghast. “Jyn, you can’t. You could—”

“—die? Yes, I’ve been informed. But Rose might need help getting the _Aegis_ back online.” Jyn’s hazel-green eyes are remarkably calm and level.

“Jyn—”

“I’ll see you later,” Jyn promises, and she’s off after Rose.

“ _¡Mierda!_ ” Cassian spits, reverting to his native Spanish in his frustration.

Jannah frowns for a moment, watching as the four Rangers run directly back into the fray, before gently laying a hand on Cassian’s shoulder.

“Come, Cassian,” she says. “She and Rose know what they are doing. We are needed elsewhere.”

\---

Kylo’s throat aches from his constant shouting, and a cough tears its way out of him. 

“Dammit. Rey,” he rasps, “please. Please.”

Rey remains impervious to his shouting and pleading. She’d shot out her arm at one point, inadvertently activating the plasmacaster, but now her limbs are so still that she seems to be frozen in time; she doesn’t even appear to be breathing. Her eyes are wide, glassy, unblinking. She’s watching some terrible memory unfold.

Which one is it? Kylo wonders as he breathes raggedly, trying to collect himself. Is it the day she was adopted and forcibly removed from the orphanage? Is it the day she finally understood that she lacked something almost every other child in the world took for granted?

Kylo hurries to where his helmet lies discarded on the ground. He replaces the electrodes as best he can along his hairline and carefully places his helmet back on over the electrodes. And he braces himself as he reenters the drift.

\---

By the time Jyn has reached the terminal by the _Aegis'_ s stall, Rose is tapping furiously at the keyboard, and Poe and Finn, still in a heated argument, are on a lift up to the pilot chamber of the _Aegis_.

“Jyn,” Rose says, not batting an eyelash at Jyn’s arrival, “Two of the clamps aren’t online; I think they’re shorted out.”

“On it. Have you cut power to them?”

“Yep.”

As Rose tries to figure her way around the unfamiliar interface, Jyn scans the deck until she finds what she’s looking for: a nice, fat metal edge seamer and a long steel crowbar. She examines the crowbar, which looks fine, then the seamer, which...isn’t exactly suited for the job, but—

“It’ll have to do,” Jyn mutters as she hops into a nearby construction lift and rapidly ascends to the first of the offline clamps.

Down below, Rose blows the dust off the intercom and punches a button. “LOCCENT, this is Rose,” she shouts into the mic. “I need you to bring the _Aegis_ online.”

“ _What_?” Han responds with his usual pithiness.

“Finn and Poe are prepping to pilot the _Aegis_ , and Jyn and I are working on the clamps. If we free the _Aegis_ in time, maybe it can protect the rest of the Shatterdome from the _Dark Knight_ ’s plasmacaster,” Rose explains, shooting a nervous glance at the _Dark Knight_.

“What in the _hell_ do you think—” Han says before there’s a staticky sound.

“Proceed,” Holdo says, having commandeered the mic. “I’ll handle the procedures here.”

“Are you insane!?” Luke bellows in the background. “The _Aegis_ hasn’t even been turned on for years! It could malfunction in any number of ways!”

“Do we have any other choice?” Holdo demands.

“Kylo is still trying to reach Rey,” Han shouts.

“It’s not working!”

“If he can’t reach her in time, then we will most certainly need the _Aegis_ to contain the _Dark Knight_ ’s blast,” Leia says. “The _Aegis_ was repaired before it was decommissioned; there’s a chance that it will run fine.”

“That was almost ten years ago,” Luke grits out. “Jaegers don’t stay functional without maintenance for that long.”

Ten years since his last jockey with Leia, ten years since the doctor’s grim prognosis.

“I’m aware.” She turns back to the plasmacaster, now glowing bright blue. 

“But I don’t think we have any other choice.”

\---

Rey is running.

Her feet pound the pavement rhythmically as she runs to nowhere in particular. All around her is darkness; no light chases behind her, and no light beckons her on. But hasn’t that been her whole life? Always running, running, running in the dark… Her lungs barely burn from the exertion. She’s built so much endurance, she could probably go for days without stopping, even without eating or sleeping.

Rey is running…

“Rey!”

Someone is calling her. She hears a deep-timbred voice echoing strangely in the darkness, and feels a strong, warm presence.

“...Kylo?”

The world is suddenly drenched in light. Rey looks up, and finds herself sitting in the drab principal’s office at her elementary school.

“...will need surgery to reconstruct his cheek,” an arch feminine voice says. Rey looks in the direction of the voice. A woman—Principal Phasma, Rey realizes with a start—is sitting at her desk, her back ramrod straight, her face a mask of sympathy. 

The office is swimming slightly, as though underwater; the already-drab colors of the office are suffused in a mute, blueish-green haze, and everything seems just a little faded around the edges. The overall effect is jarring and unsettling: ethereal, pleasantly muted, innocent in surface appearance while harboring some unseen secret folded away in some shadow. Something isn’t right.

Rey is sitting in the chair that Principal Phasma had always reserved for students who’d gotten in trouble, and she’s eight years old again, wearing that horrible pink dress that she always hated, and that’s Unkar sitting across the desk from Principal Phasma.

He looks livid.

“There’s no way I can afford some kid’s surgery,” he’s saying furiously.

“I’m sorry, but there isn’t any question that it was Rey who punched him,” Principal Phasma replies, “and the parent has no other recourse. I’m afraid—”

“Is there no other option? Unkar interrupts. “Does their—does their health insurance not cover…?”

“Unfortunately, their family health insurance does not cover reconstructive surgery,” Principal Phasma drawls patiently. “The money has to come from elsewhere. May I suggest taking out a loan—?”

Unkar stands and spins on his heel, and his beady eyes find Rey where she’s hunched over in her chair.

“Thank you for your time,” he says, still addressing the Principal. His voice makes Rey cower in fright; he’s using that deceptively calm tone that he only uses when he’s working himself up into a temper. The storm is coming.

“I’ll consider your advice about the loan,” he continues, and then he’s striding towards Rey, and Rey wishes she could melt into the wall.

“Come along,” he says, his voice scarily quiet. He hauls Rey out of her chair by the arm, and Rey catches a glimpse of Principal Phasma’s veiled expression before she’s being dragged out of the school entrance and into Unkar’s truck.

Unkar’s grip is painful, and when he practically throws her into the passenger’s seat of the truck, she has to suppress a cry of pain. She’s too terrified to make a sound.

_Maybe if I stay quiet, maybe if I’m good_ …

Unkar stands by the open passenger door for a long moment, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Rey. He makes no move to strike her, but the look in his eyes more than makes up for the lack of physical punishment.

“Do you know how much money you’re going to cost me, you little brat?” He says, his voice still soft, horribly soft. Rey begins to shake.

“Stop quivering, you little _shit_. What makes you think you can just go and punch someone in the face?”

“J-Jefferson said that my p-parents left me because no one...because no one l-loves me,” Rey stammers in her own defense. Tears begin to form in her eyes as she recalls Jefferson’s cruel taunts.

“Did I ask for your excuses?” Unkar demands. Rey chokes on a sob.

“Cry all you want,” Unkar continues, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes narrowing with malice as he leans closer to Rey, “because Jefferson was right. No one wants you. No one loves you. You’re lucky that anyone took you in, because you’re a worthless, troublemaking little brat who does nothing but cost other people money. No wonder your parents left you…”

His mouth continues to move, but Rey’s little palms are pressed up against her ears, and the only sound she can hear is the sound of her own sobbing. Unkar grapples furiously with her hands, shouting something at her; she writhes away, wrenching her little wrists out of his meaty hands, and cries harder. She sobs to the heavens; she sobs to anyone who might be listening.

“Rey.”

She hears a low, rumbling voice. Unbidden, her mind strays; she’s standing on the bank of a wide, powerful, tranquil river. The tinkling of the water soothes her.

“Rey.”

That voice again. Someone is holding her now. She struggles instinctively, terrified that it’s Unkar trying to force her to listen to more of his horrible words, words that open wounds, wounds that never heal... But the hands are different, the body is different. She opens her eyes and looks up, and realizes that the eyes looking back at her are different, too.

“Rey. I want you.”

What?

“ _I_ want you. Come back to me.”

She chokes on a sob, pants for breath, folds herself into a defensive ball.

“No,” she whispers.

\---

“I’ve got it!” Rose yells.

Jyn alternates between bending back the edges of the second clamp with the seamer and hacking at it with her crowbar; the final chunk of metal finally falls away.

“Done here,” Jyn calls back as she maneuvers the construction lift to lower her back to the deck.

“Commander, we’re ready for your signal,” Rose shouts into the intercom.

“Release at will,” comes the decisive reply. Rose throws down the mic and releases the clamps, and as the _Aegis_ roars to life, she and Jyn sprint as fast as they can for the nearest exit.

\---

“No? Why not?”

She can hear the smile in his voice.

“He was right.” Her words ring in her head, even though she whispers them. “Unkar was right.”

“ _Rey_.”

There is an emotion in his voice that she doesn’t recognize. She peeks out from her balled-up position. Kylo is there; he’s not a physical person, he’s not a river, he’s not anything in particular, but he’s there, holding her; she can feel him.

“He was always wrong,” Kylo says. The feel of his arms around her is too warm, too welcoming; she wants to pull away, like some feral animal that has only known loveless touch.

“And that little bitch Jefferson was wrong, too,” Kylo mutters. Rey laughs distractedly. Her laugh sounds strange in this void; it sounds clear and empty. Something warm ghosts over her cheek. 

“There’s a Shatterdome full of people who care about you, and are waiting for you to come back.” His voice is a whisper now; it’s getting more and more difficult to hold onto his presence. Rey reaches out with her arms; she feels herself ascending; she feels herself leaving something of herself behind.

“Come back to us,” he whispers, folding his arms around her as they plummet towards the light. “Come back to me.”

\---

Rey’s knees have locked; twin jolts of pain shoot up her legs. She tips over and falls onto her side with a strangled cry. The drift seems to fade away gradually, leaving her lying on the pilot chamber floor in the cold, grimy, stone-hard reality that had seemed so far away a few moments ago. Her limbs are cramping painfully, her ears filled with the sound of her own labored breathing and something that sounds like a plasmacaster powering down, and...a shimmering sound?

Kylo appears above her, his helmet gone, his hair a chaotic mess. A thin sheen of sweat covers his face. His whole body seems to be quivering as he kneels above her, searching her face.

She moves her lips with an effort. 

“I’m okay,” she rasps.

That seems to break the spell; Kylo’s hands are suddenly everywhere, removing her helmet and ripping the electrodes from her head, cradling the back of her neck, checking her legs to make sure her knees are still functional—and then he’s hauling her up into his arms, almost crushing her in his embrace, his wordless breaths ragged in her ear.

There’s that shimmering sound again, a sound that Rey knows from somewhere, a sound that stirs up emotions that she can’t quite place; and then she realizes that it’s the sound of the _Aegis_ ’s close-range plasma shields powering down. She turns her neck with difficulty and watches as the undulating, semi-transparent shield retracts slowly into the _Aegis_ ’s shield generators. It isn’t something she’s seen or heard since the day she first met Luke.

Rey leans her head back, her brow puckered with a frown, her cheek pressing uncomfortably against Kylo’s chest plate.

“Did I...did I activate the plasmacaster?” She asks in a small voice. Kylo laughs, his nerves still on the fritz, and nods.

Rey sighs. “How close?”

“The entire hangar had to evacuate.”

Rey groans in embarrassment.

The comm system crackles. “Kylo?” Holdo’s voice.

“Yeah,” Kylo calls hoarsely. “We’re okay.”

“Do we need to send in a med team?”

“I’m all right,” Rey says weakly.

There’s a small commotion on the other end, and then Luke’s voice. “Rey?”

Rey winces. “Yeah,” she answers. “I’m all right. I’m okay.”

She hears him sigh.

“Take the rest of the day off,” he finally says; he sounds worn out. “Both of you, come find me tomorrow morning.”

The gravity of what happened really hits her then, and she leans back into Kylo’s chest.

“Okay,” she says in a small voice. The intercom disconnects, leaving her and Kylo holding onto each other in the dim, cold quiet.

\---

As the Shatterdome personnel slowly filter back into the hangar, Dopheld bursts in, having just rushed over from the R&D wing. He regards the reentering people with mild confusion, before running to the command center, where the four retired Rangers are standing in various attitudes of relief and exhaustion.

“What happened here?” He says out loud, as he watches Han draw his good arm across his forehead, his maimed arm hanging motionless at his side, and a trickle of dark, thick blood emerge slowly from Luke’s nostril.

Holdo looks up; her deep-set blue eyes are snapping with an electric tension so potent that Dopheld takes a step back.

“Do you have something for me, pilot?” She grits out.

“U-um,” Dopheld stammers, “Kaydel says there’s been a development in her research.”

“What _kind_ of development?”

“She…she…”

“Spit it out, Mitaka,” Luke grunts as he reaches into a pocket of his uniform for his handkerchief.

“She cobbled together a neural bridge from garbage and drifted with a piece of a Kaiju’s brain.”

Holdo’s eyes narrow; Leia’s jaw drops.

“ _What_?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Kaydel!

Luke, Leia, and Holdo stand in the R&D wing, Dopheld standing uncertainly off to the side. They’re staring down at Kaydel Ko Connix, investigative biologist and amateur statistician, sole remaining member of the once-expansive R&D staff, who, still crumpled on the floor, is trying to quell her shivering and wipe her bloody nose at the same time.

“I-I-I-” She attempts to say something, but gives up quickly, swiping again at the blood rapidly trickling down to her upper lip with her handkerchief, which, to the slight annoyance of everyone else in the room, is dotted with manga-style chibi Kaiju.

Behind her, in a massive glass isolation chamber filled with suspension liquid, floats a piece of Kaiju brain, salvaged from the most recent battle (Jyn and Cassian, aboard the _Phantom_ , had most thoughtfully defeated a Category 4 Kaiju right on the coast of Hong Kong Island, just a mile or two into the Shek O Country Park). Attached both to the glass and to the brain itself are several large electrodes, wired to what does, in fact, appear to be a makeshift neural bridge crafted from...garbage. The electrodes that had been attached to Kaydel’s forehead along her hairline are scattered haphazardly on the ground next to her; her glasses are also lying on the ground, a few feet away. She glances up at the three former Rangers, and they see that her eyes are severely bloodshot as well.

“Good god, Kaydel,” Leia mutters.

Kaydel swipes one last time at her nose with her ruined handkerchief, heaves a shaky breath...and grins.

“I was right,” she finally manages.

“About what?”

“My theory about shared knowledge, shared memories?” She grabs her glasses off the ground and sets them back on her nose resolutely, and, with the nervous yet determined energy of a colt, heaves herself back onto her feet.

“All right, Connix, just keep it together,” she mumbles to herself as she hurries to the glass chamber holding the brain fragment.

“Right. So,” she begins, gesturing to the brain with blood-stained fingers, “remember how I observed that the Kaiju seem to have an organized, complex, team-oriented strategy, despite being absolute dolts individually? Well, I was right. When I drifted with the Kaiju brain just now, I saw into its past and its memories. It wasn’t much more than a month old before it came out of the breach, so it had very limited actual memories, and it barely had a mind of its own… It was essentially just a mindless weapon of mass destruction, built and programmed to destroy. But there were so many _other_ memories that seemed artificially added to its consciousness. It was aware of its creators’ plans, as well as its role in those plans. And not just that; it _remembered_ the development of those plans, as though it had been a part of the whole scheme from the beginning.”

“So these additional memories were essentially downloaded into its mind while it was being...what, grown in a lab?” Holdo sounds incredulous.

“I know it sounds insane,” Kaydel reassures them. “I’m hesitant to believe it myself. But I know what I saw.”

“What exactly did you see?” Leia says.

“It… It boggles the mind,” Kaydel says, her voice lowering, her eyes shining. “I didn’t see any of the creators, but I...could hear them. I could _feel_ them. They’ve been aware of us for a long time—thousands of years, maybe. They watched us from afar. They call themselves… Actually, I can’t remember the exact word, but I think it meant something like ‘judges’?”

“‘Judges’? What do they mean by that?”

“Well, basically, they’re the self-declared intergalactic police, jury, and judge.”

No one in the room knows what to say to that.

“What I mean by that,” Kaydel continues, unsure of what the silence means, “is that they send out scouting groups to search out new planets. When a new planet is found, they observe and evaluate life on the planet—intellectual and technological maturity, moral systems, civil and social structures, the interactions of life forms in the natural order—pretty much everything you can think of. Their evaluation process must remain flexible in order to accommodate whatever fundamental differences exist from planet to planet, but their mission stays the same: to find new life forms, and to judge whether each newly-found life form deserves to…”

“To _live_?” Luke says incredulously.

Kaydel shrugs uncomfortably. “Basically, yeah. That’s what it seemed like.”

“That’s the most bullshit thing I’ve ever heard,” Holdo spits, turning away.

“What did you mean by ‘complex, team-oriented strategy’?” Leia says, addressing Kaydel.

“They organized their observation of Earth in waves, essentially. The first ‘Kaiju’ were actually created to resemble everyday animals around the world—dogs, cats, squirrels, birds, that sort of thing—smaller things that were easier to construct en masse, and for which they could easily obtain a genetic blueprint. Through this first wave of ‘Inquisitors,’ if you will, they gathered initial information; they quickly figured out, for instance, that our planet varies widely in climate, geographical features, and ecosystems; that humans are the dominant species; that we vary widely in culture, appearance, and social norms, even within national borders. 

“As they sent in more scouts and gathered more information, though, they began to uncover the ugliness in our world. I mean, where to begin, you know? Poverty; racism; sexism; classicism; inequal access to education; disease; war and genocide; physical, emotional, and mental abuse of every type and on every scale; selfishness and corruption; suppression of the most basic human rights; pollution and poaching… We’ve managed to irreversibly damage everything—ourselves, the people around us, the Earth itself. Even the people we appoint to lead us—when we _have_ the opportunity to appoint leaders—are selfish, deceptive, cowardly, disrespectful, childish, at times grievously incompetent…”

Holdo fixes her with a glare.

“My point is,” Kaydel hurriedly continues, “they’ve deemed us...unfit to live. Undeserving of life. However you want to put it.”

“So now they’re...what? They’re going Terminator on us?”

“Pretty much. After a few centuries of only sending Inquisitors, they began sending ‘Exterminators.’ And you know how the first Kaiju on record looked a bit like those blurry ‘photos’ of the Loch Ness Monster? And how one of the earlier Cat-2s looked like a Ningen? And how the Kaiju have progressed steadily in size, hostility, toxicity, and, most strangely, resemblance to creatures from myths and sci-fi?”

“You did mention that,” Luke grumbles, “not that any of the Kaiju looked familiar to me.”

“You’re about as cut off from pop culture as anyone can be, Luke,” Kaydel jokes good-naturedly. “But it’s true. And it’s not a coincidence; it’s a demoralization tactic. Every time a new Kaiju emerges from the breach, it’s bigger and badder than the one before; and to top it off, it looks like something we’ve already been taught to fear. We’re dealing with some very, _very_ intelligent Judges here.”

“So not only are they exterminating us, they’re playing _mind games_ with us?” Holdo fumes, pacing back and forth. Luke and Leia glance at each other; Dopheld is quaking in his boots.

“Yeah. Pretty much. And we’re way behind in the game. We need to do something, fast; the Kaiju are getting bigger and badder at an increasing rate. I’m not sure if our remaining Jaeger team will be able to handle them for much longer, and the Walls sure as hell aren’t doing anything.”

Leia turns to Kaydel. “Did you see anything that might be of help to us? Anything about the...the Judges, the breach? Any weaknesses?”

Kaydel bites her lip. “I don’t think so. Do you want me to try again?”

“Could you? And find another person to drift with you while you’re at it? There’s a reason Rangers copilot.”

“I’ll do my best. But this brain sample is shot; I’m not going to be able to drift with it a second time. Do you suppose…? Maybe Han could…?”

Leia considers. “I’ll ask him for a contact,” she finally says. As she begins walking to the door back towards the hangar, she turns to address Luke and Holdo. “We need to talk about this. This changes things.”

“Agreed,” Holdo mutters as she and Luke stride after Leia.

\---

The next morning, Rey wakes up at her usual time, and groans at the unexpected pain shooting up her calf muscles to her knees as she gets out of bed. She’s a bit slower than usual as she runs through her morning routine, and by the time she makes it down to the memorium, she’s 10 minutes behind schedule, and Kylo is already there.

“You really are here every morning, aren’t you?” He says when he hears her light steps stop outside the open door; he smiles at her before continuing: “I hope you don’t mind me being here.” 

He pauses for an awkward moment, and before she can say anything in reply, he rushes to say, “Are you doing okay? After yesterday?”

“Um,” Rey says, her brow puckering slightly; it’s too early for consecutive questions. “Yes, no, and yes.” She glimpses, with a small burst of satisfaction, a bruise purpling nicely on his corded forearm, peeking out from underneath the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt.

“Okay. Good,” Kylo says, turning back to the photos. “Thank you,” he says quietly, “for visiting them every morning. I’m sure Ben appreciates it.”

She shifts from one foot to the other. “Do you believe in something after death?”

Kylo chuckles humorlessly. “Never really thought much about it; those kinds of questions were more Ben’s thing. I like to think that he’s somewhere, though, and not just…”

“Gone?”

“Yeah.” 

She scoots into the memorium, closing the door behind her, and stands shoulder to shoulder with Kylo, staring at the photos.

“God, this room is tiny,” he mumbles. “What was its purpose even supposed to be?”

“I’m not sure,” Rey says honestly. “I think it was supposed to be a pantry.”

Kylo grunts and looks around distractedly at the rows of empty shelves. Rey thinks of how different this second meeting at the memorium is from the first, which was only forty-eight hours ago, and a small grin tugs at her cheeks briefly.

The silence that stretches between them as they stand accompanying the dead is civil; companionable, even. 

“We have to go see Luke sometime this morning,” she says quietly, breaking the moment.

He looks at her. “Do you want to do that now?”

She puffs out a small sigh, her eyes lingering on Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ben, Paige. “Better sooner than later, I guess.”

He nods once, slowly. “All right.”

\---

Luke lets them in wordlessly. He looks especially ancient this morning; his ice-blue eyes are awake, piercing and ageless as ever, but the shadows and lines hovering thickly beneath his eyes, the bristliness of his white-streaked beard, and the sunkenness of his cheeks are especially pronounced. Rey walks in slowly, Kylo a step behind her. Luke closes the door of his quarters and gestures to the desk squeezed into the corner of his room—his office, for all intents and purposes.

“You don’t need me to tell you how your first drift together went,” he says with a long breath as they sit. Rey is unable to keep from wincing and looking away; Kylo remains impassive.

“And that’s okay,” Luke stresses. “No one’s first drift goes spectacularly well; Asajj and Obi-Wan’s first drift was a disaster. And it’s not productive to blame anyone for how a first drift turns out. But,” he says, “that doesn’t mean we should rush forward with assigning you two on missions. Commander Holdo and I are in agreement that, for now, you two will not be deployed.”

Rey swallows, still looking away, and nods.

Luke continues, a bit gruffly: “You need more time together, to strengthen your emotional stability in the drift. And that’s not something that can or should be rushed.”

“Does that mean we’re incompatible?” Rey asks in a small voice.

“No.” Luke smiles. “I was at your screening, remember; you two are _definitely_ compatible. Maybe more so than some of the other pilots we’ve paired.”

“Then...what can I do? What do I need to do? What...” _What's wrong with me?_

Kylo reaches across the space between them and wordlessly takes one of her clenched hands. Luke glances between them for a moment.

“There isn't a prescribed solution, a set of steps that you can follow to magically fix all of this. The end goal, I suppose, is to become emotionally stable enough to handle reliving painful memories. To...figure out, one way or another, how to prevent them from interfering with your focus.”

“How?” Rey says. “Tell me how.”

“I don't know. It's not something I can solve for you.” Luke's face is grim.

“I heard about Kaydel’s discovery,” Rey says after a beat. “Do you know if it changes anything for us?”

Luke sighs. “Leia already has a plan. It's what she called Kylo in for. If anything, Kaydel's findings will accelerate Leia’s timeline; I'm not sure of anything beyond that.”

“So...will I need to—”

“No.” Kylo speaks for the first time since they've entered Luke's room. Luke's eyes dart to him.

“You aren't under any obligation to rush and _fix_ anything about yourself just because of a development regarding the Kaiju,” Kylo tells Rey. “Whatever happens, however all of this turns out, is not on you.”

His words open something deep inside her, something painful, and she sits motionless, stricken. 

“Kylo’s right,” Luke finally says. “Our Jaeger fleet has been able to handle the Kaiju that have emerged from the breach, and will probably be able to for a while longer. And if you two are not able to pilot the _Dark Knight_ anytime soon, that cannot be helped. However…” Luke’s brow knits, the lines of his forehead deepening. “Please do not use your time unwisely. You two aren’t here at the Shatterdome to watch other Rangers fight; you are expected to work towards becoming a functional team aboard a Jaeger. And with the new information from Kaydel, we need you two to be ready to go as soon as possible, even more so than we thought.”

“Ah,” Kylo mutters, grinning coldly. “Same old Luke.”

“We have no choice,” Luke says calmly. “We are not able to dictate all of the terms of our fight with the Kaiju, or with the Judges. We have to deal as well as we can with what we’re given.”

“I assume you know the memories and emotions that she carries into the drift? And the mess that I bring as well?” Kylo demands.

“Yes, I’m aware of both of your stories,” Luke replies evenly.

“And that’s the best you can do? ‘I understand, but you’re on your own, good luck’?”

“None of us like the hand we’ve been dealt. It’s how we respond to it that matters.”

“So telling Rey that none of this is on her, but also telling her that she needs to _fix_ herself as soon as possible, without your support, is your best response?” Kylo scoffs. “After all these years, I hoped you would have learned to be a better mentor than that.”

“ _Kylo_ ,” Rey murmurs, her neck burning. He turns his flinty eyes on her; she squeezes his hand gently, before turning back to Luke.

“I understand, Luke,” she says, her brown eyes wide, earnest, crestfallen. “I… I'll do my best.”

Luke smiles, an inchoate emotion pooling in his eyes.

\---

“Nothing's changed about him,” Kylo vents as he paces back and forth agitatedly before Rey on the mostly-deserted deck of the _Dark Knight_. “He's still the same pitiless, aloof, critical old man who subtly finds a way to absolve himself of all guilt and responsibility.”

“He's not wrong,” Rey points out.

“No, he's not,” Kylo rages, “but he really could have made a _bit_ more of an effort to be supportive. He's your fucking mentor, after all.”

Rey looks at him with her guileless brown eyes, and his rage fades to a tolerably distant buzz. He steps toward her, almost subconsciously, as though suddenly aware of his own rage.

“It’s okay, Kylo,” Rey says. “It’s how Luke has always been, and he’s not going to change anytime soon; I’m okay with that. For now, I need to focus on getting my emotions under control.”

“Rey…”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll tell me if there’s anything I can do to help?”

Rey scrutinizes his face with mild surprise for a long time, before she nods; her smile is more guarded than he’d like. “I will.”

Kylo watches as Rey detaches herself from his side and darts off toward her quarters.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we meet Armitage!
> 
> I was pretty disappointed with Armitage's arc in the movies, I feel like he had a lot of potential to be deep/interesting. So I'm going to have a bit of fun with him in this story! Hope you enjoy!

Kaydel, clutching a small, seemingly-blank card of thick cream cardstock, shoves her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and hurries down the crowded street. It had rained all day; one of those long, thunderous rains that signal the end of summer. The clouds dissipated just as the sun was setting, and the newly-bathed sky is now awash with the jewel-like vibrance of twilight. Kaydel passes walls of tantalizing aromas from the street food vendors emerging at the end of a long workday, under low-hanging papers and colorful flags and banners, light-up signs, decorative, eye-catching umbrellas, stairways and doors crammed into the unlikeliest corners. There’s something about the spirit and vibrancy of Hong Kong that she will always hold dear; every time she steps foot onto its streets and immerses herself into its crowds, she feels as though she’s both arriving home and embarking on an adventure.

She navigates the uneven sidewalk pavement, jostling for space with the dozens of people crowding around her and mostly successfully avoiding the odd pole and sign, until she comes to the intersection that Han had directed her to.

She flattens herself against the faded blue wall of a nearby building, pulls out her UV light pen, and points its beam at the cardstock in her hand, revealing the hidden icon in the center of the card: three distinctive Kaiju that were among the earliest Exterminators, greatly simplified and stylized into an interlocking, circular design.

“Huh,” Kaydel murmurs, somewhat taken by the design, before looking up and scanning the intersection.

She eventually spies, across the street, nestled among various traffic signs, a plain yellow sign with only a black arrow pointing to the right; no words, names, or more specific iconography. She crosses the street with the crowd and scans the innocuous sign with her UV light pen until she finds, in the bottom right corner, an identical icon.

“Huh?” She looks to the right and spies another identical sign, this one pointing left down an alley. She scuttles to the opening of the alley and peers down the dark, deserted, slightly fetid strip of pavement.

“Huhhh…”

She takes a step. And then another.

She’s just about to bolt when a door at the end of the alley opens, and a slender, well-dressed woman with shockingly thickly-painted eyebrows, graphic eyeliner, and generous black-stained lips steps out and regards Kaydel. Kaydel, too shocked at the sight, freezes.

The woman’s cool gaze drops down to the card in Kaydel’s hand. “Bring that here,” she commands quietly, and Kaydel rushes to do what she says.

“I was told to ask for Armitage Hux?” Kaydel squeaks as she thrusts her card forward.

The woman produces a UV light pen seemingly out of nowhere—and the slender, shapely barrel of the pen is encrusted with what appear to be _diamonds_ , which, to Kaydel, seems _entirely_ excessive, god what an unnecessary expense and who the hell _is_ this woman??—and points its light at the card in Kaydel’s hand. She examines the three interlocking Kaiju for a moment, then steps back wordlessly, holding the door open and inclining her head, her black lips parting with an ambiguous smile.

“Is… Is Mr. Hux in there?” Kaydel asks. The woman blinks slowly at her, her feathery lashes fluttering fetchingly, and does not answer.

Kaydel swallows and steps in through the door.

\---

Light tapping on his door. Kylo looks up mid-pushup; he heaves himself to his feet, pads as quietly as he can to his door, and peeks out through the peephole.

A head of expertly-coiffed gray hair stares back at him; behind the hair, looking on anxiously, stands his father.

Kylo holds his breath.

“We know you’re in there,” Leia quips after an awkward silence.

He stands rooted to the spot, unmoving.

“Kylo,” she says quietly with a sigh. He hears the rustling of her uniform as she shifts from foot to foot, clasping her hands before her, as he’s seen her do numerous times in the past when she has to deal with the _problem_ child. “We’re just here to see you. We haven’t even had a meal together, not since…”

Kylo remembers sitting with his family in the Shatterdome canteen years ago, sharing a mostly-silent dinner with his family, during which his brother valiantly steered the stilted conversation from harmless topic to harmless topic, his mother snuck hopeful glances at him, and his father avoided looking at him altogether. It was the most non-contentious family dinner they’d had since Kylo cut ties with his family. The next morning, Ben and Kylo were deployed aboard the _Dark Knight_ to confront a Category 3 Kaiju, and Ben was lost.

Han cuts in. “Just wanted to say hi, kid,” he mumbles gruffly, his voice barely audible through the door. “Haven’t seen you in a while, is all.”

Kylo bows his head slightly at the memory of Ben. Perhaps that’s what his parents are really here for; to reminisce about life before Ben’s passing, or perhaps to see, for a moment, the face of their dead son.

He huffs a quiet breath and returns to his pushups. In a few minutes, Leia and Han’s shadows move silently away from the door.

\---

Kaydel stares at the ass of the woman who’d let her in from the alley.

She can’t help it; the woman is much, much taller than her, and is walking—sashaying, really—down the hall, directly in front of her, in impossibly tall heels, and is wearing a slim-fitting dress that hugs every. Single. Curve. And she very clearly works out.

Kaydel tears her eyes away when she realizes that they’re approaching a door at the end of the hallway that is flanked by two tall, bulky Asian men—unarmed, which only makes Kaydel more uneasy. The men stare down at her skeptically, but when the woman nods to them, flashing them the seemingly blank card that Kaydel had handed over, they step out of the way. The woman opens the ornate wooden door for Kaydel, who cautiously steps through, and Kaydel finds herself in what can only be described as...a pimped-out laboratory.

She slowly descends the wide, flat steps into the lab as she takes in her surroundings with wide eyes, and as the woman strides past her, disappearing into the sea of workers.

The ceiling of the room is domed, with intricately carved tiles and gilded ribbing, lit with a mixture of natural lighting from the skylights and with what appears to be a heavily ornamented, steampunk-inspired chandelier; the floor is dark marble, so meticulously polished that she can see her own dumbstruck face staring back at her when she looks down at it; the room’s dark walnut wall holds dozens and dozens of leather-bound books, textbooks on esoteric topics in various fields of science and technology, even some philosophy and foreign language texts, as well as vials and jars of strange-looking organic samples suspended in strange-looking liquids; and about the room are scattered glass tanks of all sizes holding all manner of organic matter, long tables covered with scientific instruments, laptops, and sheafs of papers, and workers and scientists busying themselves with their work, engaged in heated discussions or ferrying specimens about the room.

There’s a small crowd of people who are neither scientists nor workers—patrons, maybe?—who are heavily made-up and decked out in outlandish fashions and jewelry, brazenly defying all generally known rules about laboratory-appropriate dress—some wear lab coats, but even those are crisp and custom-cut, created clearly more for fashion than function. Kaydel examines them, before deciding that she has no idea who they are or why they are here.

The workers and scientists shuffle about in less eye-catching, but still non-regulation, drab wear: worn jeans, colorless t-shirts, rubber gloves and boots splattered with Kaiju blue.

Kaydel’s head is spinning when the woman hails her from across the room and beckons her over. Mustering all of her remaining brain cells, Kaydel gathers the bits of her composure back together as she hurries over to where the woman is standing.

Behind the woman stands a man, slightly shorter, who is discussing something with a gaggle of the zanily-dressed people, their hairstyles and strange, almost-otherworldly outfits making the man himself look almost normal. However, as he turns to regard Kaydel, she realizes that he is anything _but_ normal.

His flaming red hair is carefully coiffed in soft waves back from his face; his suit is made of some kind of jacquard fabric, deep wine red, almost black, the intricate detailing done in vibrant gold thread; his black silk shirt is collarless, which inexplicably shocks Kaydel; and his shiny black leather oxford shoes, polished to a liquid-smooth gleam, are capped at the toes with what appear to be layered plates of solid gold, tapered to a point and lethal-looking. As he turns slowly, she sees that the heels of his shoes are also gilded with gold; each deliberate step he takes is accompanied with a chilly, bell-like _clink_. And when he’s fully turned towards her, all stern, slightly-sneering mouth and blade-sharp cheekbones and furrowed brow, Kaydel immediately decides that he’s...he’s… _something_.

“Um.” Kaydel stares into his aloof brown eyes and forgets how to think. His gaze travels slowly from her twin braided hair buns, to her economical raincoat and loose-fitting jean cutoffs, down to her weather-appropriate shoes, and back up to her eyes.

“Can I help you?” Armitage Hux finally says, his words barely louder than a breath.

“Um—” Kaydel needs a diversion, and fast, while she gathers the words she needs to articulate why the hell she’s here in the first place. She turns and points to two workers hurrying by, carrying what looks like a cat-sized cockroach with armadillo-like scales of bone plate covering its back, and blurts: “Is that a Kaiju skin parasite? I-I’ve never seen one alive before; they usually die shortly after the Kaiju dies.”

Armitage stares at her for a long moment, his aloof expression unchanged except for a slight flaring of his nostrils. “You can keep one alive if you soak it in ammonia,” he finally replies.

“Ammonia,” Kaydel mutters. “Go figure.”

“Who are you, and what do you want from me?” He says softly, taking another step closer. Kaydel, unsure if she can handle him being any closer, takes a step back.

“Han Solo sent me,” she says in a rush. “I need an undamaged Kaiju brain, at least Cat-2, and he said you’re the one to go to.”

“Han Solo,” Armitage says slowly, turning the name over in his mouth like a just-rediscovered flavor. “Ah yes. Our old friend.”

The woman who’d escorted Kaydel into the room, and who stands close by, watching the conversation, curves her black lips up in a humorless smile.

“What does Han Solo need a Kaiju brain for?” He eyes Kaydel appraisingly again. “I can tell you’re a woman of science, but we both know that the Kaiju brain is good for virtually nothing.”

“...I don’t think I can talk about it freely.”

“Well, I don’t think we have a sample of Kaiju brain for you, then,” Armitage replies smoothly. “My apologies.”

Kaydel bites her lip as he turns away. He peeks over his shoulder after an awkwardly long pause, but when he sees her still standing there, he turns back abruptly to the strangely-dressed people he was speaking to before. Kaydel pushes her glasses further up her nose, and feels an emotion welling up in her that she doesn’t normally feel too often—anger.

“Do you want to see the world end?” She finally demands.

He doesn’t pause in the conversation he’s resumed.

“Because that’s what’s going to happen. If I don’t get that brain sample, if I don’t manage to learn more about the Kaiju and discover something that we can finally maybe use to our advantage, we’re going to be exterminated like animals.”

One of the crowd of strangers—a petite Asian woman with a hot pink pompadour and a sleeveless sweater dress—stares at Kaydel, not so much unkindly as confusedly. Armitage’s back is still turned, but Kaydel knows that he’s listening.

“I know life for you is good right now,” Kaydel continues. “Great, even. You’re turning an amazing profit selling Kaiju parts. But what will happen when there’s no one for you to sell to anymore? What will happen when the Kaiju have destroyed everything money could ever buy?”

“Tell me what the brain is for,” Armitage says without turning.

“What does it matter what a buyer does with their purchase, once they’ve paid?”

“I’m a curious man,” Armitage replies with a clipped tone, turning deliberately back to her. “You surmised that I like money, and you aren’t wrong. But I also happen to be pathologically curious. Satisfy my curiosity, and I’ll give you the brain.”

Kaydel steels herself and rehearses the part-lie in her head before repeating it out loud. “I’m testing a theory. Let me have the brain, and I’ll confirm to you, _after_ I’ve done my testing, whether or not my theory was correct.”

“What is your theory?”

Kaydel doesn’t even blink. “It’s sensitive information. I can’t risk it being let out into the open before I know that it’s true; it could cause mass panic if we’re not careful about how it’s revealed.”

Armitage scoffs. “You think anyone in this room would deign to release _your_ little secret?”

“Yes,” Kaydel deadpans. “I don’t know any of you, and I certainly don’t trust any of you. Least of all _you_.” She glares at him, even jabbing her finger at him for good measure, and hopes to whichever deity is listening that her firmness is convincing.

He levels an impenetrable gaze at her for a moment, his pale eyelashes absolutely still.

Finally, he turns away. “All right,” he says.

“...W-what?”

“You’ll have your brain sample, in mint condition, after the next Kaiju event.”

“How can I know that your word is good?”

“Darling,” he drawls softly, “you don’t have a choice here.”

“But I don’t—”

“—trust me, yes, I’m aware. Fortunately for you, I am nothing without my reputation. You’ll get your brain sample.”

“Why?” Kaydel blurts as he begins to walk away. “Why are you caving? I know it isn’t because you’re friends with Han, or because you care about the rest of humanity, or because you care about my...my theory.”

He turns back to regard her with his light brown eyes. Even in this small forest of people, all adorned like peacocks, his slight frame stands out; his presence is unmistakable. A long moment passes; Kaydel is about to say something foolish and flee; he grins at her.

“Because I like you.”

Kaydel decides to skip straight to the fleeing part.

\---

Rey sits cross-legged in her room, wearing a loose black training tank and matching loose black sweatpants, her feet bare, her forehead beaded with sweat. She sucks in another breath, screws her eyes shut even tighter than they were before, and concentrates, trying her best to ignore the growing ache in her knees.

She sinks back deep into her mind, and her eyes flutter open, and—she’s staring into Unkar Plutt’s sour, fleshy face. With a sharp gasp, Rey recoils from the sight and snaps her eyes open, almost falling backwards.

She sighs, running a hand over her face. She needs to figure out a way to master her emotions, but she can’t even envision Unkar’s face without withdrawing in panic and fear.

Someone knocks on her door. “Rey?”

Rey groans under her breath at the voice and drags a hand down her face before getting up from the ground and making her way to the door.

“What is it?” She asks.

“It’s me,” Kylo says.

“I know. What do you want?”

“Could you...let me in?” He mumbles through the door.

She swings her door open, emerging from the darkness of her room like a specter, and stares up at him. The light of the hallway casts stark shadows over her eyes and exacerbates the hollow appearance of her cheeks, the thinness of her jaw and chin. Her hair hangs loose and damp about her shoulders.

“This is the women’s wing. You’re not supposed to be here, let alone in any of our rooms,” she intones.

He blinks down at her. “You haven’t been down at the memorium the last two mornings,” he points out, a bit peevishly.

“Yes?”

“And no one, not even Rose, has seen you about lately.”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” he says, sighing.

“As you can see, I’m fine,” Rey replies tersely.

“You’re not,” Kylo objects. “You haven’t eaten in days, and you don’t look like you’ve slept either.”

“Whether or not I choose to eat or sleep is not your concern. I don’t have time for this, I—”

“Rey,” Kylo interrupts, gently grabbing her upper arms as she begins to sway slightly, “I know what you’re doing; you’re doing what Luke always does when he has to deal with something. He cuts himself off from everyone and everything, even his basic bodily needs, and meditates until whatever he needs to work through is worked through; but you and I both know it’s not working for you.”

Rey yanks her arms out of his hands and glares up at him. “Oh, like _you’re_ one to talk. Cutting yourself off from everyone and everything doesn’t work, does it? So have you talked to your parents yet?”

Kylo looks down at her, stung into silence by the sharpness of her retort. There’s venom in her eyes, burning bright, and Kylo can’t tell whether it’s directed towards him or herself.

“How about this,” Rey says. “I’ll eat and sleep when you talk to your parents. Until then, let me deal with my own problems.”

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Alone is all I know,” Rey says before she realizes that it’s true.

“I know,” Kylo replies. “I saw. I felt it when we drifted. And I know what it’s like. But I’m here. I want to be here for you.”

Rey’s snarl quavers. Her face transitions from rage to grief so subtly that he almost doesn’t see it. She presses her lips together and looks away.

“Go talk to your parents,” she grits out. And she closes the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments give me life!


	8. Chapter 8

“Rey sent me,” is the first thing Kylo says, sullenly, when Leia swings open the door of her and Han’s quarters, eyes blown wide.

“Han!” Leia shouts over her shoulder immediately.

“What?”

“Put some pants on! Kylo’s here.”

Kylo groans.

A moment later, Han stumbles into view, buttoning up the fly of his khakis. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He demands.

“I… No, nothing’s wrong. I need you guys to help me talk some sense into Rey.”

“Rey?” Leia frowns. “What’s wrong with Rey?”

“Well… You guys were in the command center when we attempted our first drift, so you know how that went.”

Han grunts.

“Rey and I had a debrief with Luke the next morning, and it went about as you would expect.”

“Luke told you guys to not copilot for a while?” Leia says.

“Not only that, he told Rey that she had to _fix_ her emotional scarring and address her painful memories, and that he wouldn’t be able to help her.”

“He isn’t wrong,” Leia says slowly.

“No, he isn’t, and that’s what’s so infuriating. He didn’t even try to be supportive, or give her advice of any kind. He said that Kaydel’s discovery would only make it more urgent for us to master the drift as soon as possible, and sent us off without a word of encouragement or any offer of aid. He’s as fucked up a mentor as he was when Ben and I were with him.”

Leia frowns at Kylo’s account of her brother’s actions. “You said you need us to talk some sense into Rey?”

“Yes. She’s been holed up in her room since our debrief with Luke. She hasn’t eaten, I don’t think she’s slept… She’s wrecking herself trying to figure out a solution.”

“And what do you think we can do to help her?” Leia asks, to Kylo’s annoyance.

“You miss being parents, don’t you?” He snaps; Leia recoils slightly.

“Then be parents to Rey,” Kylo continues. “I don’t know how much you know about her, but she’s never had a mother figure, and her only father figures were an abusive asshole junkyard owner and an emotionally distant asshole mentor. She’s so used to being self-reliant, she’s defaulting to that now, and she’s literally wasting away. Please,” and he realizes now that his voice has gone from demanding to pleading, but it’s too late to stop now, “please, help her see that she doesn’t have to be alone.”

Leia stares at her son, and she has a sagacious, thoughtful look on her face that Kylo finds utterly aggravating.

“What?” He finally demands.

“I hope someday that you'll see things that way, too,” she says gently.

Kylo turns away and demands, gruffly: “So are you coming or not?”

Han clears his throat. “Men aren't allowed in the women's wing, are they? Besides, this sounds like a Leia sort of thing.”

“Why do you guys bother with gender separation if you're not going to enforce it?” Kylo mumbles.

“And this is not a ‘Leia’ sort of thing, whatever that means,” Leia chides her husband, before turning back to Kylo. “And yes, of course, we'll come with you.”

\---

Someone's knocking at her door again. Rey withdraws numbly from the depths of her thoughts and stares for a moment at the door. She glances down at the sliver of light between the floor and the bottom edge of her door, and sees multiple shadows. With a sigh, she gets up and opens the door.

She looks between Han and Leia for a moment, blinking, before turning to Kylo and hissing: “This is _not_ what I meant by talking to your parents.”

“You weren’t specific,” Kylo says, a bit of his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Rey,” Han says slowly, gruffly. “Kylo tells us you haven't been eating or sleeping.”

Rey hasn't ever really spoken to or gotten to know Han Solo all that well; he’d always seemed gruff, taciturn, yet somehow affectionate, during the few interactions she'd seen him have with Ben, and he gives off a sort of rough-hewn, awkwardly tender vibe that Rey would have liked to have in her own father.

However, as he stands in front of her and awkwardly, yet sternly, rebukes her for refusing to eat and sleep as though she is still a child, and with Kylo looking on to boot, she decides there are aspects of having a father that aren't so desirable.

“Kylo had no business telling you anything about how I handle my problems,” Rey insists.

Leia, unfazed by her tone, takes a step forward. “Rey, if you aren't giving your body what it needs, how can you expect your mind and your emotions to keep up?”

“I wasn't able to keep from endangering everyone in the hangar when I drifted on a full stomach and a good night's rest; why would that be any different now?”

“It was your first drift. Nothing could have prepared you to face all of your past trauma in a rush like that. But now that you know what to expect in the drift, it's imperative that you take good care of yourself so that you can control your emotions and pilot at peak capacity when we need you to. Starving yourself and depriving your body of sleep will not help.”

“Nothing is working,” Rey says, and her stubbornly straightened shoulders stoop slightly. “I haven't made any progress since Luke dragged me out of the debris fifteen years ago.”

“Rey,” Leia says gently, “I admit I don't know you very well, even after all these years. I don't know much about what your life was like before you met Luke; he always believed it was your story to tell. But I know that you are strong and resilient. You were able to survive the trauma that you went through as a child, and you were able to grow into a strong, capable young woman. I'm certain that you can find a way to lay your past to rest… But you don't have to do it alone. If we want to defeat the Kaiju and their Judges, we must rely on each other, now more than ever. We cannot afford to make you take this journey on your own.”

Rey stares at the former Commissioner for a long moment. When she turns to Kylo, her lips are still pressed together stubbornly, but eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“Why couldn’t I do this on my own?” she mutters distractedly. A sob tears itself out of her chest, raw and painful, and a laugh bubbles up in her throat almost simultaneously, and she covers her face, unable to contain the emotions that had been building up over the past few days.

Han steps forward and folds her into his arms, rocking her gently from side to side, and she sobs into his collar, unraveling at last.

Leia steps forward and rubs Rey's back gently. “Luke was never good with words, but he's always loved and believed in you. Both of you,” she says, looking pointedly at Kylo. Kylo stares at his mother for a moment; his eyes fall to Rey, who stands wrapped in the embrace of his parents; and his gaze becomes veiled and hard, and he looks away.

“You need anything from Leia or me, you let us know,” Han says, patting Rey’s back with awkward gentleness. “Anything at all, you come to us, d’you hear?”

Rey nods into his collar. Her outburst has quickly quieted down, and she pulls her head back to wipe quickly at her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry for crying all over you,” she mumbles as she steps away.

“Hey, it’s no trouble, kid,” he replies easily, smiling a crooked smile.

“Why don’t we have dinner together sometime?” Leia says with sudden spontaneity. “It’s about time Han and I get to know you better, Rey. And Kylo,” Leia says pointedly, “we haven’t had a proper family dinner in so long, and you’ve been avoiding us ever since you returned to the Shatterdome.”

“I didn’t return for the nostalgia,” Kylo mutters.

“No,” Leia agrees, “but we can still make up for lost time. I’m sure you have some good stories from Australia or Alaska.”

Kylo thinks for a moment. “I don’t, actually.”

Rey reaches out and takes his hand. Kylo looks down at her slender fingers caressing his broad knuckles, then up into the warmth of her eyes. It’s as though his parents’ visit has broken her out of the well she’d dug herself into—a well that, to be frank, was very much like the one he often found himself in. He wonders fleetingly why he couldn’t do the same for her, even though he now knows her better than anyone else in the Shatterdome. He wonders why he’s never allowed his parents to do the same for him.

“Kylo,” Rey says, quietly, and for a moment, her voice sounds like it’s coming through the drift rather than through the air between them. “You want this too.”

Kylo stares at her. Leia and Han hold their breaths.

“All right,” he finally says, his voice small. Leia and Han look at each other with wide eyes, too shocked for joy. Rey smiles up at him. He wonders if he’s made a mistake.

\---

After Han and Leia leave, Kylo lingers by Rey’s door as she ties her hair back and runs to the bathroom to splash water on her face. When she comes back, he’s still standing there, looking immensely confused.

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she hangs her towel up and locks her door.

“The last few days were frightening,” Kylo admits in a low voice. “It felt as though you...I don’t know, you’d gone somewhere I couldn’t follow.”

“I'm sorry for making you feel that way,” Rey mutters, shifting her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably for a moment. “And for what I said to you earlier today. Or, I guess, the way I said it. I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s okay,” Kylo replies. “I understand why you were that way.”

“But,” Rey says slowly, “you should consider the possibility that your parents feel that way about you.”

“They want me back in the fold for old times’ sake,” Kylo scoffs. “They stopped loving me for who I am a long time ago.”

“I think they want to try now,” Rey says softly.

Kylo’s gaze slides down to Rey, and he regards her with a softness that she doesn’t expect. “Perhaps you’re right,” he concedes.

\---

“What calms you?”

Kylo’s voice seems to be emanating from an infinitely distant source, somewhere beyond even the stars. Rey tilts her head for a moment. It’s strange, how quickly she sometimes forgets where she is and what she’s doing when she’s in the drift.

“Why do you ask?” She replies.

“You’re stressed. I can feel it.”

Rey frowns. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

She feels, distantly, a pressure against her fingers. She knows that somewhere, Kylo is sitting next to her, hooked up to a practice neural bridge with her in the training wing, but her mind is straying far away. She can feel the darkness closing in, like an unseen beast in a forest. The feel of Kylo’s hand is jarring, even unpleasant, at first.

“So what calms you?” His voice is like a distant wind. A wind through the forest. The beast roars.

“The...the ocean.”

“Then think of it. Do you see it?”

She sees the scintillating surface of the ocean; she sees the horizon of the Pacific knocking restlessly against the azure sky. The infinite line tilts dangerously. She feels as though she’s flying. It’s exhilarating, calming, utterly distracting.

“Yes,” she murmurs.

“I see it too.”

She feels the tension of her past; she feels the scars of the emotional trauma, the old wounds that have become gnarled and ugly with time, permanent imperfections in the fabric of her memory, deep fissures in the brittle surface of her confidence. But the feelings are faded, and the darkness remains at bay, and the sight of Unkar’s face skims past almost a bit too easily. She squeezes the long, broad fingers that are wrapped around her hand.

“Unkar may have called you a nobody,” Kylo says, his voice whistling faintly over the surface of the ocean, “and many other people may have believed that about you. But you’re not a nobody. Not to me.”

Rey can feel her mind instinctively rushing to build scar tissue around Kylo’s words with the lies that she’s cowered under all these years; it’s as though her mind treats his words like fresh wounds.

“Don’t fight me on this,” Kylo chides gently. “I’m not lying to you about it. I know you can feel it.”

“Yes,” Rey mutters. “I feel it.” The knowledge that someone sees her, really _sees_ her, makes her head reel. She leans close to the choppy waves with a long, unburdened sigh, dipping dangerously close to the dark opalescent surface.

_Too close_. Kylo’s sudden alarm rings in her mind, and the feeling of his presence and his hand disappear abruptly. She pulls back, but it’s too late; Ben’s scream echoes, long and piercing, and she’s in the pilot chamber of the _Dark Knight_ , watching yet again as Ben shouts at her, urgency creasing his face and fear making his eyes flash brightly, and as the claw of the Kaiju rips through the helmet of the _Dark Knight_ like a child ripping through aluminum foil and flings Ben, still screaming, into the air. She can’t even see where he lands in the ocean; she can only hear the Kaiju’s inhuman shrieks, the crunching of metal, and Kylo’s cries, enraged and panicked and muffled by his tears. His grief and guilt overwhelm her; the onslaught of emotion brings her to her knees.

“Kylo,” she screams, but her voice is lost in the roar. She wraps her arms tightly around him. She passes through his suit, through his helmet; she caresses the side of his head, her own eyes blurring with tears at the sight of his anguish, and she presses her face close to his.

“Kylo,” she whispers.

His eyes flicker, refocusing as though awakening from a dream. “You’re here,” he rasps. “Help me. I can’t stop reliving this.”

“None of this is real,” she says. “It happened, but it isn’t your fault.”

“It should have been me,” he babbles hoarsely. “The Kaiju should have taken me.”

“Don’t say that,” Rey pleads.

The chaos around them fades to silence and cold darkness. The scar on Kylo’s cheek, weeping blood after a piece of shrapnel from the ravaging of the Kaiju cut through his helmet, fades to an angry red scar; the feverish heat of his body dies down to a warm thrum; the beads of sweat on his brow and neck evaporate.

“Everyone thinks so,” he murmurs. “I can see it in their eyes. When Han and Leia look at me, they’re looking for Ben, reliving memories of him. When Commander Holdo and Luke look at me, they wish I was more like Ben. When the rest of the crew look at me, they wonder if I’ll be anything like Ben. When I look at myself in the mirror, I wonder why I can’t be more like Ben.” He presses his hands to his face, and the emotions that roll off of him in waves are those of an abandoned, unloved child—emotions that she’s known intimately for years.

“ _I_ don’t think so,” Rey says firmly, cradling him against her as best she can. “You’re the one I’m drift-compatible with, not Ben. Without you, I would be useless. I’d still be a pilot trainee, trying to fight Unkar alone. Don’t you see?”

He looks up at her, his eyes coruscating in the darkness.

“You’re not alone,” Rey murmurs.

“Neither are you.” Kylo reaches up for her face. “You belong with me.”

Something crashes. Both Rey and Kylo jump. The cold, steel-walled training room, empty save for the practice neural bridge, rings with the sound of the Kaiju breach alarm—Rey wonders how they didn’t notice the alarm go off. The crashing sound was the door; Dopheld had slammed it open and stands now in the doorframe, panting.

“Kaiju event,” he manages to say, before hurrying out towards the hangar.

Rey and Kylo look at each other for a moment, jarred by the sight of each other’s tired, sweaty faces outside of the drift, before unhooking themselves from the neural bridge as quickly as they can and hurrying after Dopheld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope everyone's doing okay!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, actual plot

“Quadruple event,” is the first thing Rey hears when she and Kylo burst through the doors of the command center.

“ _Four_?” She is unable to keep from exclaiming. Commander Holdo, hearing her, turns, and acknowledges her and Kylo with a tight nod. 

“Eight, technically,” she grits out, and turns back to watching over Bodhi’s shoulder.

Rey wheezes; she can’t even repeat the number out loud.

“Four humanoid Kaiju riding four winged horse-like Kaiju. All Cat-2,” Kaydel says distractedly, rapidly taking notes as the drone footage comes in, showing four winged horse-like creatures of massive proportions breaking through the surface of the ocean, bearing four equally massive humanoid beings of varying appearance. The fact that they are only Category 2 is quickly outweighed by the fact that there are eight of them, and are downright terrifying to behold.

“Like the Four Horsemen?” Han mutters, clearly disturbed.

“Intimidation and demoralization,” Kaydel says. “Just like what I saw when I drifted with the Kaiju brain. Can you imagine the panic around the world right now? People probably think the world is _actually_ ending.”

“ _Rising Tide_ to LOCCENT. We are ready for deployment.” Jannah’s voice crackles over the intercom.

“ _Blitzkrieg_ is also ready to go,” Finn’s voice also pipes up; Holdo apparently wasted no time in deploying.

The _Phantom_ is still under repair, and the _Dark Knight_ , for obvious reasons, cannot be deployed. Rey peers down into the hangar from the command center and sees Jyn and Cassian, along with a smattering of unpaired pilots, congregating around one of the screens, preparing to watch the fight. Rey wonders if two Jaegers will be enough to handle four Kaiju angels of death, mounted on four Pegasus Kaiju from hell; she can’t help but to think that the odds are against the Jaegers.

“Deploy at will,” Holdo barks immediately. 

“Standby,” someone shouts, and the hissing sound of clamps releasing fills the hangar. There’s something undeniably, hair-raisingly uplifting and yet terrifying in the sight of two Jaegers, newly repaired and cleaned and ready for action, marching ponderously through the floor-to-ceiling hydraulic doors and out into the world with a chorus of metallic creaking and puffing and hissing, the _Blitzkrieg_ agile and powerful with its jutting edges and its arsenal of short-range missiles, the _Rising Tide_ sleek and fluid in its movements, its lines clean and long, its joints encased elegantly in waterproofing material, its sloping arms ending in massive hydro cannons. As close as the world seems to ending these days, the sight of the Jaegers in action always sends a thrill of hope shooting through Rey. 

“The Kaiju really do resemble the Four Horsemen,” Kaydel murmurs, wide-eyed, as the drone cameras edge closer. She’s right; despite the massive proportions (the horse Kaiju are roughly four to five times larger than an average adult horse, and the humanoids are similarly larger than life), the visual similarities to the vague descriptions of the apocalyptic Four Horsemen are undisputable. 

One of the horsemen Kaiju is almost blindingly white, its skin and robes emitting an angelic glow, its face covered by a veil of pure starlight; a bone-white circlet with strikingly tall prongs sits on the crown of its head; one of its hands guides its horse Kaiju’s reins, and its other hand seems attached to—or maybe _is_ —a bronze bow, polished and ornate. Its winged steed, similarly luminescent, with a marble-like quality to its physique, looks like something that was birthed in Olympus itself.

The second horseman Kaiju is covered in a suit of dented and scratched black armor, its impossibly broad shoulders and chest made even bulkier by the metal plating; its face is obscured by a plumed war helmet; it brandishes a long, heavy-looking blade that drips something thick and black. Its horse Kaiju, an angry shade of scarlet, paws impatiently at the air, its nostrils flared, and shrieks; the raw, piercing power of the sound sends the drone cameras spinning.

The third horseman Kaiju, cloaked in a colorless, shapeless mass of cloth, holds in its gloved hand an old-fashioned scale; it wears a silvery mask resembling the face of a man, impassive, handsome, yet somehow disturbingly unhuman; its horse Kaiju, blacker almost than the night sky, has two pinpoints of unblinking red light where its eyes should be, and long, flowing tresses that seem to flutter serenely despite the unforgiving ocean wind; it is eerily still and impassive, like its rider.

The fourth and last horseman Kaiju is the only unmasked one, but its face is almost too horrible to look at: its cheeks are fleshless and the shrunken, and shredding skin hangs close to the bone, sometimes flapping lifelessly in the wind; its lips are shrunken and peeled back to reveal yellowing, broken teeth; its limbs and torso are similarly wasted, bloodless flesh flashing wanly between scraps of skin, its beating heart pulsing visibly in its chest; and its eyes are lightless holes in its skull, featureless and unremarkable at first. But when it turns to stare into the lens of a passing drone camera, Rey feels a chill crawl through her limbs, and the meager flame of hope that the sight of the Jaegers had ignited is quickly snuffed out. Its horse Kaiju, pallid yellow-green, is also almost entirely skin and bone, having none of the other horse Kaiju’s vitality or thundering, brutal strength; its wings flap feebly as it limps through the air.

As Leia and Luke rush in, their questions silenced by the footage, the horse Kaiju wheel higher and higher in the sky, stirring up the surface of the ocean with their wings as the Jaegers draw closer to the breach. One of the drones captures the _Blitzkrieg_ in a full-on sprint, the _Rising Tide_ close on its heels. 

“We can see them,” Jannah shouts through the intercom. “But… What are they doing?”

As though on cue, the four horse Kaiju throw back their heads and _scream_. The sound overwhelms the microphones attached to the drones, but even as the sound feed cuts out, the unearthly din cuts through the air and the walls of the hangar, and the mission control crew doubles down, their hands flying to their ears, their faces contorting with pain. A cold sweat breaks out across Rey’s forehead, and she cries out something incoherent.

“They’re splitting up,” Finn shouts over the intercom as the sound finally dissipates. Eyes fly to the drone footage; the four horsemen Kaiju have indeed taken off in four different directions. 

“Two are headed for the Americas; one seems to be heading toward Europe; and one is coming straight towards us,” Bodhi bawls, clearly overwrought.

“Get me a line to NATO HQ,” Holdo shouts. “They’ll need to deal with the one heading towards Europe. _Rising Tide_ , follow the two heading towards the Americas; I’ll see if I can get in touch with the US military. _Blitzkrieg_ , fall back; we need you to defend Hong Kong.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rey watches as Bodhi’s tracker system shows four dots moving rapidly further and further apart. The _Blitzkrieg_ turns to follow the Kaiju approaching Hong Kong’s shore; the _Rising Tide_ sinks smoothly beneath the surface of the ocean, folds itself into its aquadynamic shape, fires up its propulsion system, and takes off after the Kaiju heading for the Americas.

“None of them have ever been like this,” Kaydel breathes. “This recognizable, this...terrifying. It’s _fascinating_.”

“Watch it,” Kylo growls.

“It’s true!” Kaydel insists. “I mean, yes, it’s messed up, but man! The Judges aren’t playing around.”

“Kaydel, please,” Rose pleads, eyes still glued to the screens.

“ _Blitzkrieg_ , talk to me,” Holdo barks.

“It’s moving fast,” Finn puffs. “We’re having a hard time staying close to it.”

A drone, struggling to keep up, shows shaky footage of powerful cloven hooves, a racing, beating blur of night-black. The masked Kaiju bearing the scale urges its steed on, and the horse Kaiju screams again; the sound, otherworldly and utterly demoralizing, seems to slice deep under Rey’s skin and lodge there, sucking away at her vitality and warmth.

“That thing’s screaming is traveling for miles,” Bodhi informs no one in particular. “We’re getting reports of people from as far as Zhanjiang being able to hear it.”

“Is it just charging?” Holdo demands.

“It is for now. Wait, it’s…” The horse Kaiju screeches to a stop above the Hong Kong city skyline and rears mightily, pawing at the skies, its sleek, corded neck rippling powerfully with every movement of its head. It strains against its reins, its ears flattening against its skull, its red eyes flashing; it seems to heave for a breath, and then a cloud of something pale yellow issues forth from its gaping mouth and flared nostrils.

“It’s breathing something out, some kind of gas,” Poe shouts. “I don’t know what it is, but it can’t be good.”

“Incoming call from the Security Bureau of Hong Kong,” someone in the back of the command center announces.

Holdo opens the channel. “This is Holdo.”

“Commander,” a voice answers—the clipped, calm voice of Police Commissioner Ushos Statura—“I wanted to let you know that we’re aware of the situation. We’re evacuating people in Central and the Victoria Harbour area to underground bunkers immediately, and surrounding areas of the city are beginning evacuation procedures as well.”

“How long?”

“For everyone in Central to get to underground bunkers, our fastest drill time has been just under one hour. The other areas will need more time; I’d say two hours maximum.”

“Thank you,” Holdo says shortly, and closes the communication channel. Then, addressing the _Blitzkrieg_ : “Central will be evacuated within one hour, and surrounding areas about an hour after that. Until then, keep this thing off Asian shores as best you can.”

“Any way we could get a giant jetpack?” Poe asks, half-jokingly. “This thing moves so quickly, it’s hard to keep up on the ground.”

“...No giant jetpacks.”

“ _Rising Tide_ to LOCCENT. The Kaiju horses we’re following appear to be breathing out some sort of gas.” Jannah’s staticky voice announces through the intercom; according to Bodhi’s tracker, the _Rising Tide_ has followed the Kaiju out pretty far into the Pacific, and has reached roughly a third of the way between Hong Kong and California.

“Same thing is happening here,” Han responds. “Can you tell us anything about the gases?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Zorii says. “Turning on the camera feed…”

A screen in the front of the room flickers on, and Rey is able to make out the red horse Kaiju and the pallid skeletal horse Kaiju far out in the horizon, heading farther and farther apart from each other, the red to the south and the pallid to the north. Thunder bellows in the distance. 

“There it is,” Jannah shouts. “The red one is spitting some kind of gas now.”

Everyone in the room struggles to make out the shaky image; sure enough, a deep red gas is spewing forth from the mouth of the red horse Kaiju, its jaw hanging astoundingly wide open. The gas gushes out and downward, cascading over the surface of the water. As the gas makes contact with the water, some kind of chemical reaction fizzes to life; steam rises from the surface of the ocean, and the water begins to slowly turn from its usual dark blue into an alarming shade of deep brownish-purple. 

“It’s affecting the fish,” Zorii exclaims. Sure enough, a school of fish in the area where the gas reacted with the ocean water, initially oblivious to the Kaiju and the pursuing Jaeger, suddenly turn on each other, snapping at each other with blind aggression.

“They're tearing themselves apart,” Kaydel says, frowning. “Perhaps the gas amplifies aggression?”

“You’re getting close to the Mexican shore,” Bodhi says to the _Rising Tide_. “We’ve received a response from the US military saying that they will confront the skeleton Kaiju approaching them. _Rising Tide_ , you’ll need to seal off all openings and go after the red one; the US refused to send help to Mexico.”

“Americans,” Jannah grumbles.

“We’re on it,” Zorii responds, and they veer off after the red horse Kaiju as the pallid one swings its bony jaw open and lets loose another bone-chilling scream before a milky white gas issues forth from its fleshless mouth.

“I don’t even want to know what that does,” Bodhi declares, shivering.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Holdo replies stoically. “ _Blitzkrieg_ , what’s your status?”

“Uh, I think we’re about to figure out what the gas does,” Poe responds, a tinge of fear coloring his voice. The sound of the _Blitzkrieg_ ’s rapid gunfire fills the gaps between Poe’s words.

“Cameras,” Holdo barks, and a moment later, the _Blitzkrieg_ 's live feed lights up one of the screens. The black horse Kaiju is now circling high above the city, drawing out of range, the ominous-looking pale yellow gas still pouring forth from its mouth; the heavy gas unfurls lazily and cascades to the city underneath. The crowds of civilians in the streets break out into confused panic as the gas rapidly closes in, and the police struggle in vain to herd them into the underground bunkers.

As everyone in the room watches, the gas begins to encroach upon the tips of the tallest buildings, and the rooftops of the buildings burst into flames.

“Flammable gas,” Kaydel mutters, scribbling madly. “Highly flammable, from the looks of it.”

“Seal all openings and keep your distance,” Holdo shouts.

“Already have,” Finn reassures her. “But we don’t have any means of containing the gas, and I don’t know if the bunkers are airtight. And our weapons are useless if this is the closest we can get.”

“Can none of your weapons reach the Kaiju?”

“We’ve tried everything in our arsenal,” Poe says. “None of our weapons have enough range.”

“I’ll see about calling backup. In the meantime, help the police get the civilians to the bunkers, and make sure the Kaiju don’t get too close.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Wait!” Poe interjects. “Something’s happening!”

At the same moment, Jannah taps in. “Guys, something new is happening.”

“Just spit it out,” Holdo snaps.

“The rider Kaiju, he’s...he’s taking off his mask.”

“The red rider is taking off his helmet.”

“They’re…”

“Oh god.”

“Footage from New Delhi and Los Angeles incoming,” a mission control crew member announces, and the new feeds appear on the screens alongside the Jaeger feeds. The white horse Kaiju, burning bright in the hazy mid-afternoon sky above New Delhi, tramples the air with single-minded ferocity, an opaque gray-green gas—some sort of lachrymatory agent, according to panicked and confused reports—issuing from its screaming mouth as its rider slowly removes its circlet and veil; and the skeleton horse Kaiju, just crossing over beaches of white sand into Los Angeles, shrieks its own fanfare as its rider, having no covering to remove, reaches a wasted hand into its chest and rips its heart out in one decisive swipe, its skull-like face and deathly stare unchanging. 

Rey and Kylo watch, paralyzed with horror and fascination, as the skeletal rider raises its “heart” above its head, and as the other riders unveil their faces.

Except they’re not faces. The heads of these riders, and the “heart” of the skeletal rider, are organs of some kind, glowing a bright unnatural blue.

“I’m picking up really strong electromagnetic charges,” Bodhi remarks.

“Oh. In that case, we’re screwed,” Kaydel promptly replies.

“You don’t think—?” Rey begins to say, eyes widening; she’s cut off by another collective shriek from the horse Kaiju, and the flash of four EMPs going off at once.

“Fuck,” Rose whispers. The camera feeds cut out, one by one.

“Here it comes,” Han warns the room, before everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is staying safe!
> 
> Also, as an American, I claim the right to make fun of my own country. :P


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Kaiju action!

“Looks like we were hit with a weak EMP. But with Faradays, surge protectors, and backup generators, combined with the fact that the Earth’s geomagnetic field is fairly weak here, we should be back up at any moment,” Rose reassures everyone; the clamoring in the darkness continues, heedless.

“ _Blitzkrieg_ and _Rising Tide_ are probably nonfunctional right now,” Han points out. Despite herself, a bolt of electrifying excitement shoots through Rey; Kylo glances at her quickly.

“I think _Rising Tide_ made it to Mexico before the EMPs went off, though, so at least they aren’t dead in the water,” Bodhi mutters. Almost as soon as Bodhi finishes talking, the lights flicker back on, and the hangar around them slowly seeps back into view. The crew scramble about, struggling to reboot systems as quickly as possible.

“The tracking system will need a second to come back up,” Bodhi says distractedly as he fires up his terminal.

“But the Jaegers are useless where they stand,” Holdo grits out, “and we can’t even make contact with them.” Her blue eyes, snapping with an electric tension, seek out and quickly find Kylo and Rey, standing close to each other in the midst of the chaos.

“Solana and Ren. We need you two,” Holdo says flatly. Rey’s heart soars, even as she frowns uncertainly.

“You were there for their first drift,” Luke cuts in. “They’re not ready.”

“We’ve run out of time,” Holdo says firmly. “The _Dark Knight_ is the only Jaeger that doesn’t run on electrical power; it’s the only one that can fight right now.”

“We’ve still got the _Aegis_ ,” Luke says. “Leia and I could pilot—”

“The doctor said you would both die if you ever piloted again,” Han says. “I’m not having that.”

Leia glances between her brother and her husband, her expression thoughtful, unperturbed; she doesn’t say anything.

Kylo looks down at Rey for a moment. “How do you feel?” He asks.

“I’m not ready,” she mutters apprehensively.

“You’ve improved,” Kylo reassures her. “I can feel it when we drift.”

“But to go from—from thinking happy thoughts to fighting _Kaiju_ …” Rey glances nervously at Luke. “The stakes are too high. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Don’t look at him,” Kylo says, a sudden edge in his voice. “Look at me.” 

She does.

“I believe in you,” he says. “I have since the first moment I met you. I’ll always believe in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself.”

Rey remembers the sight of herself in Kylo’s mind—her bared arms, her open, calm gaze, her immovable stance. The quiet strength and beauty of the image inspires as much wonder and hope in her as it does doubt. 

“I’m not whoever it is you think I am,” Rey mutters. “I’m not some strong, unbreakable woman who can do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. I’m just—”

“Don’t start that now,” Kylo cuts her off gently. “These lies you keep feeding yourself—they’re just holding you back. Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to.”

“I don’t know how,” Rey says, frustrated. Why won’t he let this go? Why can’t he just give up on her?

“You’ve done it over and over in the practice drift the last few days.”

“This is going to be different.”

“I know.” He leans closer to her, ever so slightly. “But we were never going to escape this. Either of us. And you’re as ready as you’re ever going to be. You know that.”

“Stop telling me what I know.”

“I’d like to,” Kylo says, smirking. “But sometimes you need reminding.”

Rey stares up at him for a long moment.

“I need an answer,” Holdo says, her voice a touch gentler. Luke looks on, clearly concerned; Leia and Han hang back, watching with great interest the interaction between Kylo and Rey. Kaydel, Bodhi, and the rest of the crew, having gotten systems back online as much as they are able, look on, waiting.

Rey, without looking away from Kylo’s steady gaze, nods once, shortly. “We’re ready.”

“Then suit up,” Holdo says calmly. She grabs the intercom mic and addresses the hangar. “Deployment crew, report to the _Dark Knight_ , bay 6.”

Down on the deck, Jyn and Cassian look up at the command center. Leia steps forward calmly, as though she’d known all along that this would happen, and places one hand on Rey’s shoulder and the other on Kylo’s.

“I have faith in you two,” she says, simply. “You will be fine.”

“We’ll have that dinner we talked about when you get back,” Han chimes in.

Rey looks at the aging couple, at the gentle, steadfast hope in their eyes, and manages to nod her thanks.

\---

“You don’t normally go that easy on your Rangers,” Leia muses to her fellow former Ranger.

Holdo looks at her for a moment with unreadable eyes. “I won’t send a pilot out who isn’t ready to handle the drift. We both know how disastrous that can be.”

“Excuses,” Leia quips, smiling. Luke, who’s pacing distractedly behind them, grunts.

Holdo grins slightly at her old friend. “Perhaps. But we’ve seen enough of our crew dead, don’t you agree?”

“You’re balancing the lives of two Rangers against a city of millions,” Leia replies.

“If we send them out when they aren’t ready, then it’s two lives added to the millions,” Holdo points out. “Rangers are few and precious now. I will not squander them. Especially if one of them happens to be your son.”

“Ah…” Leia says, her smile turning sad.

Holdo glances at Leia for a moment. “Kylo was always a capable Ranger. He will be fine.”

“I know. It’s Rey I’m worried about. Luke’s agitation is contagious.”

Luke glances up at them, freezing in the middle of his pacing.

“Who wouldn’t be agitated?” He demands. “Rey has hardly been in a real Jaeger before, and now she’s about to face off against her first Kaiju. She’s not ready.” 

He glances at the screen, which now only shows the _Dark Knight_ ’s live feed. Rey and Kylo, after being suited up and sealed in by a clearly-stressed deployment team, are now heading out into the city, crossing the shallow channel of water. The city, usually full to the brim with people, now lies silent; the lights and screens and flashing signs are all still on, the food carts still out, stores left unlocked, doors left hanging open. It looks as though an entire city of people simply evaporated, which isn’t too far from the truth. The Kaiju circling above the city are now entirely shrouded by the flammable gas, and multiple areas of the city are now quietly burning away; the shrieks of the horse Kaiju reverberate throughout the city with stunning clarity; in the distance, barely visible through the gas and smoke, stands the _Blitzkrieg_ , still as death.

“She’s not ready,” he repeats, anguished. Leia, all too acquainted with parental concern, smiles as she perceives it in her brother.

“You’ve done all you can,” she murmurs. “It’s up to them now.”

\---

“Should we get Finn and Poe?” Rey wonders as she and Kylo thread their way through the city, trying to avoid crushing too many cars or nicking too many buildings. She’s been in countless Jaeger simulations and has done fairly well on simulated drops, but attempting to pilot a real Jaeger with a real person plugged into her mind is an entirely different sensation. She feels as though her fear and anxiety can’t get any worse than it is now, but at the same time, something burns with breathtaking vitality in her—something wildly beautiful and tenacious, something that has never existed before, or perhaps lay dormant until now.

“They’ll be fine if they stay put,” Holdo responds promptly. “We’re sending a chopper as soon as we can get one off the ground.”

“Knowing Poe, he’s not going to stay put,” Rey says, unable to keep from grinning.

“You’re not wrong,” Holdo says flatly. “But we’ll take care of that. You two focus on the Kaiju.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rey is almost pulling against her controls in her haste to get closer to the Kaiju. She eyes the sky, and the dark cloud that now surrounds the Kaiju; she and Kylo stop as they approach the area of the city that is now covered in gas and flame. As if on cue, the horse Kaiju abruptly stops its circling and breaks free of the cloud of gas that it’s generated, dispersing the gas around it with one powerful pump of its wings. The rider has replaced its mask and urges its steed on.

“I can’t tell where it’s trying to go,” Rey mumbles. Kylo, currently a buzzing, almost-negligible presence in the back of her mind, agrees, equally frustrated.

The Kaiju abruptly turn in their direction, and, after a moment of consideration, without losing altitude, begin to make their way over to the airspace above the _Dark Knight_. Rey tenses.

“They’re probably not going to get too close to you,” Holdo warns. “They’re not really armed, except for the gas and the EMP, and they’re much smaller than the Cat-4s we’ve been seeing.”

“You're also highly flammable,” Rose says. “Because nuclear-powered Jaeger. So please keep your distance.”

“We will.”

“What long-range weapons have we got?” Rey asks no one in particular, glancing at the control console before her, feeling slightly flustered. There’s so much to think about during active combat.

“Can you get a temp reading on the Kaiju?”

“About -85 degrees C,” Rey reads off her console.

“Way too cold for heat trackers.” Kylo thinks rapidly; Rey feels as though she’s just along for the ride, coasting on the river of his thoughts.

“I think our only other long-range option is the plasmacaster,” Rey says quietly.

“Agreed. Let’s see how this goes,” Kylo says, charging up his plasmacaster. The cannon whirs to life with a mechanical whine.

“Incoming,” Holdo warns. The Kaiju are now almost directly above them, still keeping their distance, as though waiting to see what the _Dark Knight_ will do. Rey sets to charging her plasmacaster as well. All of her combat training seems to have gone to waste, at least for this particular jockey… But as long as the Kaiju winds up dead, Rey thinks with a sigh, that’s all that matters.

“You’re not wrong,” Kylo says, smiling.

Rey bites her lip instinctively, as though she’d unintentionally blurted her thoughts out loud; she keeps forgetting that he can hear every one of her thoughts. She clamps down on her mind and focuses on the issue at hand.

Kylo locks onto the Kaiju and lights up his plasmacaster. A bright plasma beam, accompanied with an explosive sound, cuts through the air.

The airborne Kaiju, however, are more agile than they appear to be; the horse Kaiju darts out of the way of the energy beam at the last moment, its rider tugging on its reins. The horse Kaiju lets out another angry, bone-chilling shriek before tossing its head back, and another cloud of pale yellow gas issues forth from its mouth.

“Fuck,” Rey says, panicked. “We’re too close!”

“Do we have ventilation?”

“We could turn up the internal fans,” Rey says, scrolling rapidly through the configurations. “Maybe also turn on the coolant while we’re at it.”

“Okay. You take the next shot; I’ll handle ventilating.”

Rey, sensing the formation of the idea in Kylo’s head before he even opened his mouth, is already locking onto the Kaiju as the gas closes in. Kylo overrides the fan and coolant settings, moments before the cloud of gas hits them.

Rey holds her breath, but nothing seems to have caught on fire—yet. Blood pounding in her ears, she takes the shot; this time, with the gas greatly reducing visibility, the horse Kaiju is unable to evade the beam in time, and the entire city rings with its cries of pain and rage. The buildings around them have begun to catch on fire, and the gasoline tanks in cars have also begun to combust. The air around the plasmacaster beam and the _Dark Knight_ crackles dangerously.

“I can’t tell if it’s down for good,” Rey says. “Maybe if I…”

She flips rapidly to infrared imaging and scans the sky above them. The flammable gas around them is actually pleasantly warm, sitting at about 25 degrees Celsius; the summer evening air is also still warm from the sun. But the Kaiju, currently a writhing, shrieking mass, is a dark patch of cold in the imaging, a blue-black cutout in the purple-red haze.

Rey and Kylo watch as the Kaiju lose altitude rapidly; Rey’s shot seems to have taken out the horse Kaiju’s right wing and foreleg. The rider Kaiju struggles to stay mounted, until finally the two hit the ground. The horse Kaiju’s head smashes through the glass windows of a business building, its massive body filling the street, its flailing hooves sending cars and buses flying.

Rey and Kylo are able to make out the rider Kaiju as it detaches itself from the now-motionless horse Kaiju with resolute impassivity. It stares up at the _Dark Knight_ for a moment, before making as though to take off its mask.

“Fuck,” Kylo says sharply.

“We have choppers in the air, with Boyega and Dameron onboard,” Holdo barks through the intercom. “Don’t let that thing set off its EMP again.”

There isn’t enough time to charge the plasmacaster; the rider Kaiju has already removed its mask, and its horrifying organic EMP head is pulsing, its bright blue glow cutting through the gas.

Rey brushes against Kylo’s mind for a moment; he nods; they charge at the Kaiju.

Just as the Kaiju’s EMP seems to reach full charge, Rey deploys the _Dark Knight_ ’s only short-range weapon. A long chain of steel-obsidian alloy whips out from its sheath in the _Dark Knight_ ’s right arm and arcs through the air like a whip before the chains lock into place, forming a long, straight sword—the chain sword, a feature Rey added while repairing the _Dark Knight_. Kylo moves his body in tandem with Rey’s in perfect synchrony, and, with one decisive swoop, they bear down on the Kaiju, slashing its body almost perfectly in half.

“Guys,” Kaydel whines over the intercom, “did you _have_ to cut the brain in half!?”

But neither Rey nor Kylo hear her as they watch the two halves of the Kaiju crumple. The bright blue “head” begins to dim, and before long, the body is a colorless mass; the rider’s mask, still terrifying in its quiet, impassive way, lies on the ground beside the body, nearly drowned by the river of Kaiju blue leaking from the corpse; a short distance away, the horse Kaiju lies motionless where it had fallen.

Rey feels a swell of emotion rise up in her. She glances at Kylo and sees him grinning at her with wolfish satisfaction.

“I call that a successful jockey,” he says through the drift. “Congratulations; you’re a Ranger now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really struggled with this chapter, actually. I think this is my first real attempt at writing an action scene, and I think I have a lot of room for improvement lol. 
> 
> Also, you might have noticed that I upped the total chapter count... Hehehe. Hopefully the chapter count won't rise any higher than 25, but we'll see.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> **Science!Edit: I did some reading on the effects of EMP attacks on nuclear plants, and it turns out that a small modular nuclear reactor (SMR) has been designed that can safely shut down and restart in "Island Mode" (ie without the need for an electrical grid), which I thought was super cool. I guess nuclear meltdowns are one thing we potentially don't need to worry about in the event of an EMP?? D:


	11. Chapter 11

Rey and Kylo arrive back at the Shatterdome just as Holdo and the others in the command center receive updates from various other parts of the world: the St. Petersburg Shatterdome sent a decommissioned Jaeger with its retired pilots to intercept the glowing white Kaiju after it littered tear gas through the Stans, southern Russia, and much of central Europe; it was just beginning its foray of destruction into France when the Russian Jaeger finally caught up with it and shot it out of the sky. Electrical power is estimated to be mostly restored after a few hours of intensive work, but the tear gas has left a wide swath of temporary (in many cases, potentially permanent) blindness, as well as widespread reports of chemical burns and respiratory damage.

Mexico was able to convince the US to send military aid, especially after the red Kaiju appeared to direct its attention north towards Texas. The damage was done, unfortunately; the red gas that the red Kaiju unleashed over Mexico turned out to be an incredibly potent aggression-boosting agent that caused hundreds of thousands of civilians to turn on each other, leaving parts of the country ravaged by violent crime and mayhem. Some areas of Texas and New Mexico were affected as well, as the red Kaiju changed course, before the US decided to launch a missile at the Kaiju, blowing it—as well as several square kilometers of suburban and rural land—to dust.

And the skeletal Kaiju, meandering towards DC after reaching the Californian shore, streaked through the western and central-southern States, unleashing a milky white gas that seemed to function as a depressant; countless reports, some contradicting each other, rapidly overwhelm the Internet, with disconcerting phrases such as “total respiratory failure” and “mass-induced comas.” It took the US government much longer to deploy a missile against the skeletal Kaiju, given how close it always stayed to highly populous cities and suburbs, but when it became clear that no other aid would arrive in time to stop the damage, the decision was made, and the Kaiju—as well as a sizeable swath of the central US—was obliterated. Combined with sweeping loss of electricity from the Kaiju’s EMP attack, the effects of which were amplified greatly by the strength of the geomagnetic field around the US, news channels and experts predict an eventual mortality rate of anywhere between 10% to 60% of the US population. 

Kylo and Rey’s high on their success is rapidly dampened by the grim news. The eight Kaiju have been stopped, but not before inflicting massive damage to some of the most economically and technologically developed parts of the world and murdering or disabling millions of people. As choppers are sent out to retrieve Zorii and Jannah and to make plans with the Mexican government to somehow transport the _Rising Tide_ back to the Shatterdome to have its circuits replaced (which will probably involve dismantling the _Rising Tide_ , much to Rose and Holdo’s chagrin), Rey and Kylo stand quietly off to the side in the command center, unsure if they are allowed to leave, wrapped in shock blankets and nursing giant mugs of piping-hot tea that Maz had at the ready as Rey and Kylo were half-carted out of their Jaeger.

Amidst the chaos and the steady influx of sobering news, Leia and Luke appear beside them like twin spirits. “How are you doing?” Leia says quietly. Luke eyes them, kindly but shrewdly, and remains silent.

Rey takes stock; her knees have stopped quaking, and the cold, steady roar of adrenaline has quieted to...Rey isn’t sure what. It’s a confusing, intoxicating combination of satisfaction, exhaustion, and fear. She hadn’t realized until Maz silently pushed the mug of tea into her hands that she’d lost all feeling to her fingers—the warmth of the mug is slowly starting to bring her hands back to life—and the feel of the hot liquid hitting her empty stomach makes her gut contract with newly-remembered hunger.

“Fine,” Rey says.

“Same,” Kylo says, his tone guarded.

“I just wanted to let you know that you both did great today,” Leia says, her smile genuinely warm. “To have come so far in so little time is truly amazing. You should be proud of how your first jockey together turned out.”

“Thank you,” Rey says, returning Leia’s smile but glancing quickly at Luke.

“You… Um,” Luke says gruffly. “You did good. Both of you.”

Leia and Kylo eye Luke with matching expressions of exasperation, and Rey can’t help but to grin. 

Luke, looking suitably chastised, extends both of his hands to clasp Rey and Kylo on their shoulders. “I mean it,” he says, a bit helplessly.

“Leia?” Holdo barks from across the room. “Korr Sella from the UN on the phone for you.”

“Be right there,” Leia shouts back over the din, and nods once to her son and to Rey before walking away swiftly.

“How was it?” Luke asks after an awkward pause.

“It was good.” Rey smiles up at him. “It was _amazing_.”

He smiles at her then, a rare, small, genuine smile, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling deeply. “I’m happy for you. You did good out there.”

He peers up at Kylo for a moment, his smile unchanging. “Both of you.”

\---

Kaydel isn't able to ignore the fluttering in her stomach when Han, holding a gnarled hand over the receiver of his phone, informs her that Armitage Hux is asking to speak to her. She surreptitiously clears her throat as she snatches the phone from Han and scurries away, pressing it to her ear.

“H-Hello?” She mutters.

“Darling,” Hux drawls over the line.

“Um…” Kaydel can feel a blush blooming over her cheeks, and scurries out of the crowded hangar. “Uh…”

“Have you already forgotten who I am?” Armitage tuts.

“No! No,” Kaydel says hurriedly. “Armitage Hux, dealer in Kaiju parts. I haven’t forgotten you. I just…” She finally finds a relatively deserted corner and huddles there.

“Here we go,” she says, breathing what she hopes is a steady sigh. “How can I help you?”

“I have the brain of the horse Kaiju that fell here in Hong Kong. I thought you’d want to pick it up as soon as possible.”

“Oh, yes, right! Right,” Kaydel says in a rush. “I—I—”—she clears her throat—“I can come by whenever.”

“I’m at my lab now,” Armitage says coolly. “I’ll have Bazine meet you at the door.”

“Right. Thank you!” Kaydel hangs up before another foolish syllable can spill its way out of her mouth, and wipes at her brow. What the hell is wrong with her? Just the sound of his aloof, British-accented voice through Han’s beat-up phone is enough to send her into a tizzy. Kaydel wonders if the pressures of working at the Shatterdome are finally catching up to her mental health; she briefly considers taking a long bath, before remembering that she needs to head out to Armitage’s lab immediately. Caught in a circular stream of thought between Armitage and her fragile mental health, she runs into the hangar to return Han’s phone before heading to her lab to grab some things and slipping out into the city.

\---

It’s been a long day, and the fallout of the day’s events will continue to unfold into the foreseeable future, but Rey and Kylo are sent to their rooms to rest, by Holdo’s orders. As the elevator groans to life, the raucous chaos of the voices in and around the hangar fall away, and a heavy silence settles in.

Rey steals a long glance at Kylo as the elevator grinds to a slow halt and the doors trundle open.

“What’s wrong?” He says, not looking at her, as they exit.

“Nothing. I just…” Rey trails off, studying his face.

“What?” He repeats, finally looking at her, disconcerted by her scrutiny. His eyes are distant, dark shadows.

“Luke and Leia seemed happy,” Rey finally says.

“...I guess,” Kylo says, immediately on guard at the mention of his family.

“They seemed happy with how we did.”

“Yes?” Kylo demands shortly as he stalks off toward his room. Rey easily keeps up.

“Kylo, we both know,” Rey says.

“Know _what_?”

“We both _know_.”

“ _Know what_!?” He turns on her quickly, and she all but slams into his chest. She skitters a step backward and stares up at him.

“We _know_ ,” she says quietly, after a long moment, “that you want love. We know that you want to be loved by your family.”

His stare is like two daggers, pinning her to the ground where she stands; he silently dares her to keep talking.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be loved,” Rey continues, trying to keep her voice from quavering.

“You can chase their love all you want,” he bites out. “But you won’t catch me doing the same.”

“Why not? They—”

“You think my family’s opinion matters to me? You think I want anything from them?” He spits. “I stopped wanting anything from them a long time ago.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“I have my moments of weakness,” he says quietly, his voice suddenly taking on an almost murderous quality; his anger is almost palpable, sparking off his body. “But that does not define who I am. And I am _not_ a Solo, or an Organa, or a Skywalker.”

“But you don’t have to be alone!” Rey bursts out. “I don’t understand why you’re so dead set on being alone.”

“You _do_ understand,” Kylo snarls. “You’ve been in my head. You’ve seen what happened. You’ve seen how they treated me.”

“But isn’t it enough that they want to start over and try again?”

“They had their chance,” Kylo says.

“But they’re your family,” Rey cries. “How can you turn your back on…?” She trails off at the sudden change in Kylo’s expression. His face, murderously enraged a moment ago, is suddenly pensive, even pitying.

“What?” Rey says, immediately on her guard.

“What a couple of losers we are,” Kylo says. He turns away, and heavy shadows from the dimly-lit hallway slant across his angular face, now obscuring his expression; his voice is gentle, the corners and sharp edges now rounded.

“What do you mean?” Rey says hollowly.

“You crave a real family, and I want nothing to do with mine,” Kylo responds. “You fear loneliness, and I thrive in it.”

“I don’t understand,” Rey says lowly. “How can you _want_ to be so alone? I know what you went through with your parents and Luke, but doesn’t some part of you still want to...to fix things? To be with them?”

“You know the answer to that,” Kylo says quietly.

“Yes, I suppose I do.”

They look at each other for a long, hard, exhausted moment. When Kylo opens his mouth, Rey expects a curt ‘good night.’

“And anyway, I have you,” he says instead, his words almost lost in the echoing emptiness of the hallway. Without the drift, his words are startlingly raw, and his gaze is suddenly dangerously magnetizing, and Rey realizes with a pang how close they've become, how quickly they've come to know each other intimately. For a moment, it feels as though one of them will lean in towards the other; Kylo’s looming figure, silhouetted by the hallway lighting, seems to grow larger and larger; and Rey, suddenly unable to bear his presence, turns on her heel and escapes to the women’s wing.

\---

True to word, as Kaydel steps into the alleyway where the obscure entrance to Armitage’s lab lies hidden, an utterly unremarkable door opens, and Bazine, impeccably dressed and made up, stands in the doorway. She offers Kaydel a frigid, wordless smile and beckons. Kaydel swallows and silently walks in, watching as Bazine swings the door shut before following her down the dim hallway.

The two Asian men at the door are different from the pair that had been there when Kaydel last visited, but they eye her with the same incredulity before Bazine wordlessly waves them aside and shows Kaydel in.

The lab is bustling with activity despite the late hour, presumably processing all the new Kaiju parts that were recently acquired, but Kaydel doesn't take note of it; her eyes are drawn immediately to Armitage, dressed in another sumptuous deep red suit and wearing his gold-capped shoes. There is no crowd of outlandishly dressed strangers hovering about him; it’s just him, standing peaceably in the center of the room. The sight of him in his finery and the feeling of his brown eyes settling on her are sensations she was not prepared to re-experience in the least. Somehow it's even worse than the first time they met. 

His face is carefully neutral as she approaches. “E-evening,” Kaydel says; she immediately regrets opening her mouth. Since when did she use “evening” as a greeting?

Armitage ignores the awkwardness of her greeting entirely and gestures toward another intricately carved door towards the back of the lab with a black leather-gloved hand.

“I had the brain retrieved and preserved, first thing,” he says. “It's back there now, awaiting you.”

He then eyes the bag slung across her shoulder and cocks one impeccably plucked eyebrow. “I hope you weren't expecting to lug the brain back to your base in _that._ ”

“No, no,” Kaydel rushes to say, and Armitage turns with a flutter of his unbuttoned suit jacket and strides, his shoes clinking primly, towards the door. She hurries to keep up.

“I…” Kaydel begins to say as Armitage holds the door open for her, in a gesture of politeness that she can’t discern is characteristic of him or not, and as she hesitantly steps through the doorway. “I brought my science equipment to test my theory,” she finally says.

Armitage closes the door quietly behind them and spins slowly to stare at her.

“Did you?” He finally says. The clamor in the laboratory is now a mere faint buzz seeping through the cracks around the door; his voice is low, gentle. Hypnotic, even.

“Y-yes,” Kaydel stammers. God, her stammer hasn’t been this bad since third grade.

“How strange,” Armitage muses as he leads her down the narrow hallway to a different, more plainly decorated door. “I thought you were dead set on distrusting me and keeping your little theory a secret.”

“I lied about that,” Kaydel admits as he presses his thumb to the bio-lock pad by the door. The door slides open with a hiss, and the lights in the room flicker on automatically. “I’ve already attempted what I’m about to do with a different sample of Kaiju brain.”

Armitage hums, looking archly amused; Kaydel wonders if he’d known all along. “And now you’re going to reveal your little science endeavor to me?”

“It’s not a _little_ endeavor,” Kaydel responds, instantly needled by his snideness.

“We’ll see,” he says, the corner of his thin-lipped mouth lifting in a profoundly aggravating smirk. He gestures into the well-lit room that he’s just unlocked. “Your brain sample is in here.”

Kaydel glares at him for another moment before stepping towards the door, peering in with cautious curiosity. It’s some sort of long, narrow storage room; the floor space sprawls outward before her and the ceiling hangs low overhead. The walls are lined with shelves on which containers of all sorts—glass jars, cardboard boxes, wooden crates, even a few lockboxes—are stacked. Towards the back on the ground, amid several larger containers that do not fit on the shelves, sits a glass container taller than Kaydel, filled with a semi-opaque, greenish-yellow suspension liquid; inside of it floats the brain of the Category 2 horse Kaiju that the _Dark Knight_ felled.

“It’s in perfect condition,” Kaydel breathes as she approaches it.

“I _did_ promise mint condition,” Armitage drawls. “Do you need anything from me to get started on your testing?”

“No, I have everything I need here,” Kaydel says, patting her bag.

“I must say,” Armitage says as he closes the door and leans against it with reptilian ease, “I’m intrigued.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Kaydel mutters as she removes her bag and sets it down on the ground, kneeling in front of it. A sudden sense of self-consciousness had drawn over her as soon as the door slid shut, leaving her alone with Armitage, but she pushes the feeling away as best she can, and focuses on the task at hand. She digs the small device that she’d fashioned using an outdated neural bridge chip and a few pieces of metal casing and wiring, and sets that down beside her; next, she fishes out the power source, adapter, and electrodes. When she hazards a glance at Armitage, he looks aghast, and she feels a thrill of victory and, simultaneously, panic.

“Don’t tell me,” he says slowly, “that you’re planning on drifting with a Kaiju?”

“I’ve done it before,” Kaydel says, a bit defensively. “It worked fine.”

“Oh my god,” Armitage breathes. “You’re _insane_.” His expression melts from shock to an odd combination of affection and awe, and Kaydel _really_ can’t handle that just now. She turns back to her work quickly.

“Like you said,” she says, a bit archly, “I’m a woman of science.”

A few rapid clinks of his gilded shoes, and he’s standing next to her. “Do you have another set of electrodes?”

Kaydel blinks up at him. “What? You mean you want to...to drift with me?”

“That’s what Rangers do, isn’t it?” He gestures vaguely toward her makeshift neural bridge. “‘Share the neural load,’ or whatever the term is.”

“I mean, yes, but…” Kaydel swallows. “I-It’s not terribly fun, per se. Nor comfortable. I mean, the brain of a Kaiju, it’s—”

“Are you worried about drifting with me?” Armitage cuts in.

“N…” 

She stares up at him for a moment. 

“Yes,” she finally says. “Who wouldn’t be apprehensive about drifting with a stranger?”

Armitage regards her for a moment, before squatting down slowly next to her. “I understand,” he says slowly. “I, too, do not find the prospect of laying my memories and my emotions bare before a stranger very appealing. But I find that I...do not have any qualms with you.”

“Why not? How do you know I wouldn’t judge you?”

He stares into her eyes then, and she isn’t prepared for the head-on intensity of his light brown eyes. “Would you judge me?” He asks, entirely seriously.

“I…” She swallows, staring back into his eyes for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she quavers, finally. He searches her eyes for a moment longer, before shifting his weight back onto his heels and nodding once with satisfaction.

“I believe you,” he says simply. “Do you believe me when I say that I won’t judge?”

“No,” she answers immediately.

Silence for a long moment.

“Ah,” he finally says, slowly. “Can’t say I blame you.” Kaydel watches as he rises slowly and takes up his position by the door again without looking at her. She looks down at the extra pair of electrodes she’d shoved in her bag with the same half-hope, half-fear that she imagines someone might tuck away a condom before a date.

Armitage looks up to the sound of shuffling, and sees Kaydel standing at a safe distance from him, holding out the second pair of electrodes. He stares at her wordlessly for a moment. She nods. He takes the electrodes slowly, and follows her back to the Kaiju brain.

There’s a bit of awkwardness as Kaydel helps Armitage affix the electrodes to his head at the proper spots, and by the time they’re properly hooked up to the machine, her cheeks are flushed a deep pink. She doesn’t bother hiding it from him—he’s about to be in her mind, anyway—and pulls the machine into her lap, her hand on the switch.

“Ready?” She says; it comes out as an undignified squeak.

Armitage presses peevishly at one of the electrodes on his hairline with a slender finger, before nodding once. She flips the switch.

_God, this man can even make_ electrodes _look good_ — _wait_ —

And with that thought, the two of them are sucked into their first drift together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Kaydel. We're all rooting for you.
> 
> Thanks for reading up to this point, I hope everyone is hanging in there!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A smidge of downtime for our poor fools before the next Kaiju debuts

“As most of you know,” Leia says, addressing the crew of the Shatterdome in the hangar, “Kaydel discovered a few days ago that the aliens sending Kaiju through the breach have an end goal, and that end goal involves the systematic extermination of humankind. When Kaydel conveyed this information to me, I thought we finally had sufficient reason to move forward with closing the breach; however, it seems that even in light of this development, the UN is unwilling to sanction the use of nuclear force to close the breach, fearing that the effect of the nuclear fallout on marine life, and potentially on Taiwan and the Philippines, would be too destructive.”

Leia pauses for a moment, scanning the crowd with unreadable brown eyes. “I want you all to listen to me very closely,” she says, and her voice shifts from restrained and diplomatic to that of the leader of a rebellion. “What I am about to say is in direct violation of the UN’s orders. The UN refuses to take decisive action on the breach, and instead chooses to believe that Kaydel’s discoveries are nonsensical, paranoid bullshit made up by a mad scientist. The UN refuses to take reasonable steps in light of the most indisputable proof we’ve been able to generate regarding the Judges’ intentions. Therefore, the UN leaves us no choice.”

Leia draws herself up, eyes crackling. “Our time has run out. I am authorizing the launch of a nuclear missile into the breach, as soon as our Jaegers are ready to be deployed, and as soon as the breach next opens.”

The hangar, tensely silent until now, bursts into noise. The range of reactions runs the gamut; several of the crew members are impassive, pensive, at the news; a handful are elated, excited even, at the prospect of nuking something; still others openly voice their doubts that a nuclear weapon would be sufficient or necessary; and the remainder, mostly the Taiwanese and Philippino members of the crew, confer anxiously with each other about the possibility of nuclear fallout and the impact of that on their homes, their lives. The energy in the room surges. 

Leia calls for silence; when that doesn’t work, Holdo steps forward and echoes the command in a decidedly less polite manner. The room falls silent at the word of their Commander.

“I’ve discussed with Police Commissioner Ushos Statura about the possibility of using nuclear force on the breach,” Leia continues. “I’ve also been in contact with the Taiwanese and Philippine governments, and have obtained their support, as well as their pledge to evacuate civilians from the most vulnerable zones when the time comes. We will take every precaution to ensure that the peripheral damage caused by the strike on the breach is minimal.

“I want to emphasize,” Leia continues, “that this was a last resort decision. This was not how I wanted things to go. But with the unmistakable escalation of the Kaiju attacks, and the reluctance of our world leaders to step up and take decisive action, this is the course I feel we must take in order to preserve the survival of our species.”

Rey feels a shiver run through her body at those words— _the survival of our species_. Even though the Kaiju had been steadily increasing in size, strength, and intimidation factor, it had never really occurred to her that the very survival of humans was at risk; but she supposes, after the devastating four-pronged attack carried out by a band of mere Category 2 Kaiju, that the possibility was never entirely unreasonable.

At that moment, Kaydel, having arrived late and listened silently with wide eyes, shuffles to the front and nervously clears her throat.

Leia looks at her for a moment. “Kaydel, do you have something to say?”

“I… That is, I…” Kaydel says, faltering. Her hair is oddly mussed, and her cheeks are flushed bright pink.

“Is something wrong?” Leia asks with genuine concern. Kaydel draws herself up as straight as she can manage and shakes her head.

“No, ma’am. Well, yes. In a way. The thing is, I just repeated my experiment—”

“You drifted with another Kaiju brain?”

“Yes. And I’ve learned some things that might complicate your nuke-the-breach plan.” Kaydel tugs at the hem of her jacket as she speaks. “Bombing the surface of the breach’s opening, as you know, wouldn’t be enough, which means we’d need to bomb the interior of the breach, along with the Judges, if possible. However, the breach is a selective portal, in that it is manually controlled by the Judges. Nothing goes through without the Judges’ approval. So it’s highly unlikely that we’ll be able to send a nuclear weapon into it.”

The crowd bursts into murmurs; Kaydel shifts from foot to foot uneasily; Holdo calls again for silence.

“The second thing that I discovered,” Kaydel says timidly, “is that since the Kaiju were modeled heavily off Earth’s life forms, they are also susceptible to a couple things that Earth’s life forms are generally susceptible to. The Judges were able to develop exoskeletons and armor that could withstand our firepower, but the Kaiju are not impervious to biochemical attacks; I think tranquilizers, neurotoxins, and other biological weapons could work on them, if they are delivered in a proper way.”

The crowd bursts into murmurs again; Holdo, anticipating the outburst, silences everyone almost before they open their mouths.

Leia peers into Kaydel’s uneasy face for a moment. “Is there something else, Kaydel?”

“Um…” _Armitage Hux and I were in each other’s heads for a full forty seconds_? No, that wouldn’t do. “There is a third thing, but I...I’d like to talk about it with you and Commander Holdo first, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Leia answers.

Holdo turns to the hangar full of anxiously listening crew members and, nodding once, barks out a crisp “Dismissed.” As the crowd disperses, some eyeing Kaydel with curiosity and others with derisive sneers, Leia beckons to Kaydel, who follows her into the command center.

“Is everything okay?” Han pipes up as he, Luke, and Commander Holdo catch up to Leia and Kaydel. “Is it that Hux? Did he hurt you?”

“No!” Kaydel says instantly, a bit too loudly. “No,” she says again quickly, her blush flaring anew. “This has nothing to do with him.”

No one responds immediately, but Leia tilts her head to the side slightly, scrutinizing Kaydel’s face more closely than is comfortable.

“It’s not Armitage,” Kaydel says again, more emphatically.

“All right, all right,” Han mutters, still looking skeptical.

“If it’s not Hux, then what is it?” Holdo demands.

“When I was drifting with the Kaiju brain, I…” Kaydel twists the hem of her jacket in both hands and is unable to keep from letting out a short, low groan.

“What happened? Did you see something?”

“I… I came into mental contact with one of the Judges.”

The four retired Rangers stare at her with wide eyes.

“You _what_?”

“I don’t know how exactly it happened,” Kaydel quavers. “One moment it was just u—it was just me, filtering through the Kaiju’s memories; the next moment, I felt a presence, and then the Kaiju’s memories began to—to disappear.”

“Disappear?”

“Yeah. Almost like someone was...I don’t know, wiping them. It was like watching someone wipe a painting off a canvas.”

“You think it was a Judge?”

“I know it was. I wasn’t sure at first, but I stayed in the drift for a bit longer, and before I knew it, the Judge was there.”

“Kaydel.” Leia’s places a hand on Kaydel’s shoulder. “Are you _certain_ it was a Judge?”

“I don’t know who else it could be.”

“What did it feel like?”

Kaydel shivers, drawing her arms around her. “It’s hard to explain. Grand, in a way. Pristine. But...cold. I didn’t feel any emotions, or see any colors, or anything else that Rangers describe experiencing in the drift. I just...felt thoughts. Calculations.” She shivers again. “Judgement.”

“And you said it was wiping the Kaiju’s mind?”

“Yes. It’s strange, though; when I drifted with a Kaiju brain the first time, I didn’t encounter any weird memory gaps, or anyone actively wiping the Kaiju’s mind…”

“Perhaps they’ve begun doing it as a countermeasure. I’m afraid it makes perfect sense. But Kaydel,” Leia says urgently, “was it two-way? Do you know if the Judge sensed you there?”

“Yes. I’m certain.”

“Then…” Holdo says, tensely.

“Yes,” Kaydel says in a small voice. “I think it’s highly possible that everything I know has been compromised.”

\---

When Rey finishes up a short training and meditation session with Luke, she hurries back to her room to wash up before flitting down to the hangar.

“Hey,” she says after wandering the sprawling room and finding Rose working on repairs for the _Blitzkrieg_. The _Dark Knight_ had sustained minimal damage, and now stands further out in the hangar, silent and dark, awaiting its turn.

Rose looks up for a moment, her cheek smeared with grease. “Hey,” she says, her expression of concentration brightening into a smile. “Dinner time already?”

Perhaps the only good thing that has come out of Paige’s death is the growing bond between Rose and Rey; Paige had acted as a sort of older sister to Rey, and after her passing, Rose and Rey had helped each other stumble through the healing process as best they could. What had been a largely superficial friendship between the two younger women turned into something deeper and more meaningful, and for that, Rey remains grateful.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling back at Rose. “Do you need more time?”

“No,” Rose says, straightening and stretching out her back, wincing. “I could use a break.”

“Okay.” Rey turns to the exit of the hangar. “We should hurry. I hear today’s a fish fry day.”

“Oooh! Maz, you little minx.” Rose instantly forgets her cramped back and scurries after Rey.

After they manage to snatch their dinners at the counter, Rey and Rose turn and survey the crowded canteen with some hesitancy. Normally the canteen isn’t quite so crowded, but it’s been a long couple of days, and people seem more than happy to spend a little extra time eating and chatting than they normally do. Unfortunately, this means just about every table is occupied.

“Hey, look,” Rose says, indicating with the corner of her tray. Rey follows her line of sight, and sees Kaydel sitting at a table, alone, picking at her food. Some people at the neighboring tables sneak looks at her; others snigger openly with each other.

“Yeah?” Rey says.

“Yeah.” The two head over to Kaydel’s table and plop down, Rose next to Kaydel and Rey across. 

“Hey you,” Rose says, smiling a megawatt smile at Kaydel and pointedly ignoring the people at the neighboring tables, who shoot quick, appraising looks at Rey and Rose before turning back to their own business. “Do you mind if we sit here?”

“Hey,” Kaydel says guardedly. “No, go ahead.” Even though the three girls are fairly close in age and have been at the Shatterdome for a good amount of time, Kaydel has always kept to herself for the most part, and Rey and Rose mostly let her be.

“How are you doing after the drift?” Rey says with genuine curiosity. “It’s a rough ride, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” Kaydel says. “I don’t know how you Rangers do it.”

“Drifting with someone you’re compatible with helps a bit,” Rose says. “I’m still impressed that you cobbled together a neural bridge, by the way.”

“Oh, it wasn’t so hard,” Kaydel says, giggling nervously. “Once it’s been done, it isn’t so difficult to copy.” She looks around them for a moment, then lowers her voice. “Look,” she says, “it’s really nice of you guys to sit with me like this, but it’s okay. Really.”

Rose eyes the people around them skeptically. “What’s their problem, anyway?”

“Half of them think I’m bluffing, and the other half think I’m looney,” Kaydel sighs. “I mean, what kind of person drifts with a Kaiju brain?”

“Mad geniuses only, honey,” Rose replies brightly.

“That’s not what _they_ think,” Kaydel says, shoveling a forkful of fish into her mouth. “Not that I care. It’s always been this way for women in science, and it won’t stop now.”

“Look at you, not bothering with what other people think!” Rose says. “Good on you.”

“Plebs, all of them,” Rey contributes. Kaydel looks between the two of them, and for the first time that evening, smiles a genuine smile.

“Hey, you got the brain sample from Armitage Hux, right?” Rose asks.

Rey pipes up: “Oh yeah, I’ve heard all sorts of weird stories about him from Han. What’s he like?”

“Oh, I, uh…” Kaydel immediately turns bright pink and stares down at her ketchup-drenched fries, clearly at a loss for words. 

“That bad, huh?” Rose mutters.

“No! No,” Kaydel hurries to say. “Armitage is—that is, he—he was very kind to me. I can see why people might think he’s a bit...standoffish.”

“A bit?” Rey echoes skeptically.

“But he’s not that bad, not at all,” Kaydel says. “He was very helpful with procuring the brain sample and keeping it in perfect condition for me to use. And he—he helped me set up the neural bridge when I got to his lab.” 

Rey stares at Kaydel incredulously for a moment. Rose nudges her subtly under the table and hurries to change the subject.

“So, the brain sample,” she says, clearly fishing for any thread of conversation to pursue. “Uh, so. It was from the horse Kaiju here in Hong Kong, right?”

“Yeah,” Kaydel says, letting out a breath that she’d been holding.

“And the stuff you saw…” Rey lowers her voice. “All of it…?”

“Yeah,” Kaydel says, tittering humorlessly. “I know how insane it sounds. And, I mean, if the UN won’t believe me, then who will? Pretty sure Leia is the only person here who really believes anything I say these days. But I know what I saw.” Dejected resignation and horror mingle for a moment on her face, before she swallows and schools her features.

“We believe you too,” Rey reassures her. “But...if bombing the breach isn’t going to pan out, then what options have we got?”

“Honestly,” Kaydel says, “I’m not sure. Bombing the entrance may work. For a while. I don’t know much about the Judges, but I’m sure that destroying the entrance of the breach itself isn’t going to stop them from coming back. It might buy us some time, but they’ll just open another breach, build more Kaiju, and resume their mission. They’re patient, smart, methodical. It’s…”

Kaydel breathes out another sigh. “I mean, it’s chilling, terrifying. But in a way, it’s amazing to know that such intelligent life forms exist out there.”

“I guess I see what you mean,” Rose says. “It’s a bit hard to ignore the part where humans go extinct, though.”

“I know,” Kaydel says. “But the more I think about it, the more I think I understand why the Judges feel the way they do. I mean, they’re certainly not wrong about how messed up humans are, and how much damage we’ve inflicted on each other and on our planet.”

“No,” Rey says, looking away. “I suppose they’re not.”

“We have to find some way to stop them, though,” Rose says.

“Yes, we’re still trying to figure out a plan,” Kaydel promises. “Leia had me start brainstorming ways we could deliver a large enough amount of tranquilizer or neurotoxin to a Kaiju to disable it. We’d need an insane amount of it, though, is the problem, and I have no idea how we could get that much substance into a Kaiju.”

“And Holdo has me and my team working around the clock to get all four Jaegers back up to 100%,” Rose says. “But I have this horrible feeling that no matter what we do, the Judges are just going to keep coming back.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Rey says. “We have to.” 

Her words ring hollow, even to her own ears. 

\---

Bodhi is sitting at the main terminal during his shift, half-monitoring the breach as he listens to his favorite recording of Rossini’s _Il Barbiere di Siviglia_ , munching happily at an everything bagel slathered with fluffy cream cheese and sipping at a decadent, piping-hot mocha. Hong Kong, unlike several other areas of the world, has not been forced to ration its food supply as of yet, and the Shatterdome continues to see a steady influx of food, both from neighboring parts of Asia and from overseas.

Bodhi stares for a moment between his last bite of bagel and his last sip of coffee, trying to decide which to stuff into his mouth first, as Count Almaviva warbles his love for Rosina to an amused Figaro. Bodhi sneaks a peek around the command center and, seeing that no one seems to be observing him, is just about to attempt shoving both into his mouth at the same time, when—

The red lights around the breach monitoring screen flash bright red, and an unsympathetic female voice announces: “Warning. Warning.”

Bodhi jumps a foot into the air, splashing his coffee all over the front of his uniform, and sits wide-eyed for a moment, before stuffing the last bite of bagel into his mouth, fumbling his now-empty mug onto the narrow strip of table, ripping his dollar store earbuds out of his ears, and reaching for the main terminal. He glances down at the breach monitor again, watching as more details appear on the screen. He presses his face closer, and his eyes widen.

_Deep breaths, Bodhi. Deep breaths._ He’s on the verge of hyperventilating as he reaches for the mic.

“Kaiju event,” he squeaks. “Kaiju event. Our first Category 5.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And our first Cat-5 Kaiju is...

“Talk to me, Rook,” Holdo demands as she strides into the command center moments after Bodhi’s broadcast.

“It came out of the breach about four minutes ago, and it’s just been lingering in the water,” Bodhi says, peering at his dash. “I can’t be sure since it’s still mostly submerged, but sensors estimate its height at about 122 meters, or 400 feet. Anthropomorphic, with shorter front legs, an external scaly bone structure, and a long tail. Three rows of serrated spikes down its spine. Just caught sight of its head—it looks...I don’t know. It looks like a dinosaur, to be honest.”

“A dinosaur?” Han exclaims as he rushes in, Luke and Leia close on his heels.

“I mean, just look at it,” Bodhi says, expanding the frame of one of the drone camera feeds. A broad, boxy, craggy snout, half-obscured by the churning ocean water and a cloud of steam, passes by; there’s a glimpse of rows of discolored, sharp teeth, flared nostrils the size of cars, and two disturbingly bright golden eyes. The Kaiju roars, a chilling, prehistoric sound that is simultaneously piercing and grating.

“More info coming in,” Bodhi announces, glancing at the breach monitor. “I’m reading a resting body temperature of about 500 degrees Celsius, but it’s rising rapidly.” His already-wide eyes bug out even more as he stares at the monitor. “It’s already gone up to 550 C. It’s evaporating the surrounding ocean water.”

All eight Rangers pile into the room then, some wide awake and others still rubbing sleep from their eyes; the sun has barely risen. “Cat-5, you say?” Poe demands, fighting off a yawn.

“Yeah,” Bodhi replies.

“It looks like dinosaur,” Zorii mutters, staring at the footage.

“Right?” Bodhi exclaims. Rey shoots a wide-eyed glance at Kylo.

“Standby,” Holdo says in a warning tone.

Everyone in the room looks to the screens and watches as the massive Kaiju, circling the water above the breach until now, suddenly straightens its course and heads east.

“Resting temperature still rising,” Bodhi exclaims, staring at the monitor. “It’s past 900 C!”

The heat of the Kaiju’s body has begun to affect the ocean water much more noticeably; people in the room watch as the wall of steam around the Kaiju steadily thickens, masking the Kaiju from the drone camera’s view. The spikes along the Kaiju’s back begin to slowly change color, morphing from the color of the rest of its body—a drab, indeterminate gray—to a dull red. The Kaiju pauses for a moment in the water and lifts its head to stare at the drones in the air, eyeing each one emotionlessly. Its enormous face pokes through the steam slightly, and the room holds its breath.

After a tense moment, the beast snarls, as though in contempt, and lowers its head back into the water. It kicks off, due east-northeast, the ocean water coiling and hissing as it comes into contact with its armored body.

The room is silent for a moment.

“Is it just me, or did that look like—” Finn begins slowly.

“Godzilla!” Poe exclaims, pumping his fist in the air. “Holy shit! Our first Cat-5 looks like Godzilla!”

The four former Rangers eye each other with bewilderment. “What the hell…?” Han mutters.

“Intimidation, remember,” Kaydel mumbles; she’d slunk in at some point and stands now behind the Rangers, scratching absently at her cheek, not quite fully awake. “Instill fear, incite panic. All that.”

“Well, they were spot on,” Han mutters. “Most of the pop-cultured world is going to shit their pants at the sight of this thing.”

“ _Han,_ ” Leia gripes.

“It seems to be heading straight for the US,” Bodhi interjects. “Much slower than the, uh, the Cat-2 horse Kaiju. It'll make landfall in about two days.”

He glances at the data on the monitor. “Resting temperature seems to have plateaued at 1000 C, or 1832 F.”

“Show me the drone footage in tile format,” Holdo commands. Bodhi hastily obeys, throwing all angles onto the screens. The room watches silently for a moment as the Kaiju cuts slowly but steadily through the water, creating massive waves and raising thick walls of steam in its wake, the three rows of spikes down its back and tail now glowing a bright orange-red.

“I’ll alert the US government, although I suspect they already know,” Holdo says grimly. “Tico, what’s the status of the Jaegers in repair?”

“Just wrapped up on _Blitzkrieg_. Everyone’s ready to go,” Rose says.

“Good. _Rising Tide_ and _Phantom_ , you’re up. _Blitzkrieg_ , standby. We’ll need to stop this thing before it gets too close to land.”

“What about us?” Kylo interjects. Holdo eyes him and Rey for a moment as Jannah, Zorii, Cassian, and Jyn hurry out to the hangar to prepare for deployment.

“I need you two on hand in case we have an opportunity to somehow close the breach,” Holdo finally says. “We don’t have much military backing, so we’ll need to be mindful of how we use our nuclear resources. For now, let’s see if the others are able to handle this Kaiju.”

Kylo grunts impatiently; Rey nods and mutters, “Yes, ma’am.” Holdo eyes them for another moment before turning back to the screens.

\---

The next few hours are tense and frustrating; the _Rising Tide_ is able to catch up to the Kaiju fairly quickly, but the intensity of the heat emanating from the Kaiju renders the _Rising Tide_ ’s hydrocannon mostly useless, and makes approaching the Kaiju practically impossible. Once the _Phantom_ catches up, its radar-based attacks and attempts to confuse the Kaiju also seem to prove mostly ineffectual.

“We’ve tried everything,” Jyn yells through the comm system as they battle the churning water. “EMF, microwave, UV...we even tried a focused gamma. This thing isn’t being affected by anything we throw at it. I can’t tell if we’re too far away, or if the bone plating armor is blocking most of our waves.”

Rey stands motionless in the back corner of the room in a hyper-alert state, Kylo pacing back and forth next to her; the two of them glance up at Holdo, whose pinched expression is the only sign of her stress. She shakes her head at them once, then looks to Finn and Poe.

“What do you think about piloting the _Aegis_ again?” She says.

Finn’s jaw drops open. Poe shoots his fist into the air and shouts incoherently.

“Commander, I-I don’t know if…” Finn squeaks.

“If this thing makes land, it will likely burn a lot of vegetation and infrastructure to ashes if we don’t have any way of shielding against the heat. I’m thinking we will need the _Aegis_ more than we will need the _Blitzkrieg_ , at least for now.”

“I-I see,” Finn says weakly. “I don’t know, piloting it with Poe the first time was...chaotic.”

“Dude,” Poe says, his face alight, “we got this. Sure it was rough the first time around, but we totally got the hang of it in the end.”

“Did we, though?” Finn counters, voice high-pitched with panicked skepticism.

“Luke and I might be able to—” Leia begins.

“No,” Holdo says firmly. “We will not resort to deploying you and Luke, not unless it’s absolutely necessary.” She turns to Poe and Finn decisively. “Go down to the hangar and prepare for deployment; I’ll let the crew know.”

“Aw, fuuuuuck…” Finn mutters as Poe drags him out of the room.

\---

“All right?” Kylo asks in the elevator. After he and Rey had been sent back to their rooms by Holdo, with orders to be ready to be deployed at any time, they’d walked quietly through a tension-filled hangar, past groups of workers and crew members talking excitedly and fearfully about the first Category 5. They’d stepped into the elevator and watched as the doors slid shut, and something in Rey seemed to deflate the moment the elevator ground to life.

“I can’t shake this sense of doom,” she mutters. “I mean, it’s reasonable to be pessimistic when a Cat-5 Kaiju appears that looks like Godzilla and is probably going to decimate the US. But there’s something else…” Rey frowns. “I don’t know what it is.”

“Impending destruction of the entire world as we know it? Extinction of the human species?” Kylo intones.

“I guess,” Rey says, barking out a dry laugh. “It almost doesn’t feel real anymore. It’s like we’re in someone else’s bad dream.”

“If only that was the case,” Kylo says as the elevator comes to a slow, agonized halt and the doors screech open. They step out, and the doors slide shut.

Rey looks up at him. “Really?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you really wish that none of this is happening?”

A hard glint appears in his eyes, and he returns her stare levelly. “If you’re accusing me of being apathetic...you wouldn’t be wrong.”

Rey isn’t able to return his bald stare, and looks down, at once ashamed and appalled. “Why are you apathetic?” She asks the tops of her boots.

“Is it so terrible to not care?” He scoffs. “I’m surprised it took the Judges this long to decide to exterminate us. We’re a worthless species.”

“If you care so little, then why have you spent the last few years of your life fighting against the Kaiju?”

“Because I knew it would make Ben happy,” he says simply. “And because it paid. Can you imagine me with a 9-5 desk job?”

Rey stares at him. “So you’re here, risking your life aboard a Jaeger with a novice Ranger, fighting the Kaiju head-on?”

“It seemed like my only option at the time,” Kylo shrugs.

“And now?” She demands. “Would you go so far as risking death just to do what you think would please Ben?”

Kylo looks at her for a moment. “No,” he finally says.

“Then what is it? Why are you still here?”

“You know the answer to that,” Kylo says slowly.

“No, I don’t!” Rey insists, her voice rising in volume. “I don’t just know things that you won’t share.”

“You’ve been in my head.”

“But you still keep things to yourself.”

“Why is it so important that I say it out loud to you?”

“Because—” Rey skids to a stop, staring up at him with wide eyes. There is no trace of his usual all-deflecting smirk; the corners of his lips are pulled taut; his eyes glow with a strange fire.

“Because?” He prompts.

“You know why.”

“Say it,” Kylo insists quietly.

“You first,” Rey shoots back, feeling slightly childish.

“I’m still here because of you,” Kylo says, his voice deceptively flippant. Even though deep down she knew what the answer would be, it takes a full ten seconds for his words to sink in.

He inclines his head toward her, ever so slightly. _Now you_.

Rey rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and looks away from his intense gaze, her neck and face aflame. He takes a measured step towards her.

“Say it.” His voice is barely a whisper.

Rey feels angry, ashamed tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. He takes another step toward her, and she finds herself now in the radius of his warmth. She watches, frozen, as he slowly raises a scarred, veined, massive hand, and slowly hooks his finger under her chin, gently tugging her face upwards toward his. She’s unable to avoid looking into his eyes then, and finds his gaze as searing and intense as ever, pooling over her like liquid fire.

“Say it,” he repeats, his lips barely moving.

“I needed to hear it,” Rey finally says, her voice more breath than sound. “I wanted you to say it out loud.”

“You never needed that,” Kylo replies. “You only had to look in the drift.”

“I didn’t want to,” Rey says. “I...I was afraid.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” He tugs her chin slightly closer, and she feels a spike of adrenaline course through her veins, sending a thrilling chill through her body. She can feel his breath wisping against her cheek.

“I'll tell you whenever you want to hear it,” he tells her. “I came for Ben, but I'm staying for you.”

He’s offering her everything she’s ever wanted from another person, and it tugs on something deep in her, something frighteningly intense. Rey recoils, yanking herself away from him, and runs in the direction of the women's wing. Kylo watches wordlessly as she flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...A FIRE-BREATHING GODZILLAAAA MWAHAHA


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we see some Old Guard action.

There are colors in the drift now, colors other than black and ice-cold blue. Rey opens her eyes in the drift and finds herself ensconced in a haze of buttery sunshine—not the manufactured golden glow surrounding Kylo’s memory of his family at the beach, but real sunshine, filtered through the jewel-blue sky and the decadent clouds and the patchwork of late summer leaves rustling overhead, sending an unexpected jolt of balmy vitality buzzing under her skin. She turns her head slowly, basking in the warmth, breathing in the scent of verdant forest.

“It’s beautiful,” she can’t help but to breathe. She can’t see very far—the memory is faded and worn-through, more an impression than anything else—but the feeling of peace and warmth draws her in, and she finds she can do nothing to resist.

Kylo grunts in agreement, his voice echoing from far away, melding with the rustling sounds of wind and leaves. The dreamlike idyllism of the memory dulls the painful awkwardness that Rey had felt upon seeing Kylo in the memorium the next morning, and seeing him again in the drift training room. 

“Where was this?” 

“I’m not sure,” comes the reply. “I was very young.”

“It’s…” Rey stares around her. “I wish I could stay here forever.”

“Me, too.”

“Is your family somewhere in here?”

“I think I’m alone in this memory.”

“Are you lost?”

“I might be.”

“You...don’t feel lost.”

“No.”

Rey looks around her and sees Kylo now, standing several feet away at the edge of the path, looking out into the view of the valley, his back turned to her.

“Kylo—”

A sound filters through then, distant, seeming to emanate from the sky itself. It takes a moment for Rey to realize what the sound is. With a deep breath, she closes her eyes and reaches up to remove the electrodes from her hairline, bracing for the mental and emotional impact as she resurfaces in reality. The sound magnifies and crystallizes until it becomes the emergency notification trilling of their phones. Rey picks up her phone and stares at the message for a moment, before looking up at Kylo. He glances up at her for a moment, and she sees something she hasn’t seen in his eyes before—fear.

\---

The command center is full of grim, sleepless faces when Rey and Kylo arrive at the emergency briefing. Holdo nods shortly to them as they enter. The screens are covered with footage from multiple cities of burnt landscapes, gutted buildings, deserted wastelands that were populous, thriving cities mere hours ago. In one frame, in the distance, a thin, writhing wall of flame can be seen, moving slowly over the land.

“Incoming footage from the US,” Bodhi explains to the gathered crowd. “The Kaiju evaporated so much ocean water on its way to the US that scientists are reporting a two inch decrease in sea levels and major disruptions in ocean ecosystems. But once it made land, its resting temperature jumped up to 1650 C, or about 2500 F. Water evaporates before it can even get close to the Kaiju, so we haven’t been able to use water-based countermeasures against it directly. And not only does it breathe fire—it radiates a heat so intense that it’s shrouded in fire, as you can see from the footage. It’s able to set vegetation and even buildings on fire from as far as half a mile away.”

The room is deadly silent.

“The _Rising Tide_ , the _Phantom_ , and the _Aegis_ used up most of their resources attempting to slow the Kaiju down, and are now even less prepared to engage the Kaiju in close combat,” Holdo says. “We need to recharge them, and we also need to figure out a strategy to take this thing down. I’ve been in communication with the US military; they’re seriously considering using a nuclear missile at this point, but we’re not even sure that that will take this thing out.”

“Single-strike nukes don’t really do much against Cat-3 Kaijus and up,” Kaydel chimes in.

“Correct. The notion of nuking an American city without even being sure that it will kill this thing is what’s deterring the military from proceeding, but we’re running out of alternatives.”

“Any additional information or data on this Kaiju?” Kaydel asks.

“Not much,” Holdo responds. “The _Aegis_ has been using its shields to aid evacuation efforts by strategically redirecting the Kaiju and its heat. The _Rising Tide_ has been using its hydrocannon to help firefighters put out fires, and the _Phantom_ has been experimenting with its range of wave attacks and has had some modest success at inducing confusion in the Kaiju, but not much. We’re mostly just reacting at this point.”

“Meanwhile,” Leia chimes in, “the US, as well as other countries, are dealing with a host of fast-evolving crises; they’re facing everything from mass displacement and homelessness, food shortages, disrupted supply chains, to robberies, looting, violent crimes, suicides. Every law enforcement organization is being stretched thin.”

“So what can we do?” Kylo says.

“That’s what we’re here to talk about,” Holdo says slowly. “I’ve run this by Leia and Luke already, but our plan is to have them pilot the _Blitzkrieg_ , carrying multiple charge units. The _Aegis_ will meet them halfway, they will perform a pilot switch so that the correct Rangers are in the correct Jaegers, and they will ferry the charge units to the rest of the crew to recharge the Jaegers. We’re hoping that the _Blitzkrieg_ will have the firepower and agility we need to, in conjunction with the US military, take this thing down.”

Everyone in the room looks on with increasing shock as Holdo explains her plan. Rey is unable to keep from glancing at Han; he looks stricken. Luke and Leia stand next to each other in their Ranger uniforms, backs straight, faces impassive.

Holdo looks to Han. “Believe me, this is not what I wanted to do. But we can’t risk sending the _Dark Knight_ in, in case it’s needed to deal with another Kaiju or to seal the breach, and we can’t risk plucking two random unpaired pilots from our current pool and sending them into the fray. We really need Luke and Leia’s expertise aboard the _Aegis_ for this mission.”

She lowers her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Leia turns to her husband and offers him a strained smile, her eyes glimmering. He stands there, staring back at his wife, his hands clasping and unclasping.

“We need to move fast,” Holdo says. “We don’t have the time or resources to disassemble, transport, and reassemble the _Aegis_ , so you’ll need to deploy as soon as possible and make the journey on foot. But...I want to give you time to...to tie off loose ends,” she ends awkwardly, before turning away. 

“Tico, I need you and your team to perform final checks on the _Aegis_ and to equip it with charge units.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Rook, one final round of checks on your part as well,” Holdo says.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Everyone else to your stations. Dismissed.”

The crowd breaks and the people head out, sneaking curious, conflicted, sympathetic glances at the cluster of former Rangers now standing at the head of the room, looking between each other silently. As the room empties, and as the mission control crew sit down at their screens, Leia looks up and spots Rey and Kylo standing in the back of the room, staring back at her. She motions them over, and they make their way to the front of the room on leaden feet.

Han reaches for his wife's hand with his good hand and presses her fingers to his lips. “The doctor's prognosis,” he says haltingly.

“We know,” she says.

“You'll die,” he murmurs.

“Probably.”

“If I'd known this morning…” he whispers.

Leia draws her hand away and pulls her husband close, her hands spreading gently over his stooped back and quivering shoulders; tears spill forth from her eyes, which are screwed tightly shut. Kylo stares down at the ground, his eyes dry, his lips pressed into a thin line.

The old couple separates then; Han looks ten years older than he did moments ago. “I love you,” he murmurs as he reaches up and cups his wife's cheek tenderly with his wrinkled, age-spotted hand. 

Leia leans up and plants a kiss on his weathered cheek. “I know,” she says, smiling up at him, the corners of her wet eyes crinkling; his smile in response is so heartbreaking that Rey has to look away. Han turns then, abruptly, and hurries out of the room.

Leia breathes a long sigh before turning to Kylo, whose eyes slant away. He stands stock-still, his huge hands curled into fists. Leia approaches her son slowly, and gently takes one of his hands.

“I wish we had more time,” she says quietly. “I wish I could say all the things that I've wanted to say to you all these years. And I wish we could have had that dinner. But it's too late for all that now. So all I can say is…” She presses his hand. “I have always loved you, my darling boy. I know I've failed you many times as a mother, and for that, I'm sorry. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me.”

Kylo looks at her then, the muscles around his eyes straining. He opens his mouth; Rey holds her breath; he closes it. He looks up over her head, staring straight ahead, his expression pained, his arms stiff at his sides. 

Leia wraps her arms around her son and leans the side of her head against his broad chest for a moment, her eyes closed, her mouth curving into a smile even as tears escape from her eyes, chasing the ones she'd shed for her husband. She looks up at Kylo for a long moment before silently releasing him and stepping back.

“I love you,” she says to him again, firmly, her voice quavering with emotion. There's a hint of frustration in her face, as though the words do not quite convey everything she wants to say. She looks at him, wide-eyed, for another long moment, waiting for him to do something, anything; he continues to stare straight ahead. She lowers her eyes, finally, and turns away. 

As she approaches Holdo, Luke steps in beside Rey.

“This is it?” Rey says in a small voice. Luke breathes a sigh, and his pale blue eyes, normally impassive, are now uncertain.

“I'm not good at goodbyes,” he admits.

“I know,” Rey says, attempting a smile.

“Rey,” he says, “this isn't the way I hoped we'd part, but...I want you to know that I'm proud of you. Watching you grow up has been a pleasure, and watching you fulfill your goal of becoming a Ranger is one of the proudest moments of my life. I hope you know that.”

Rey nods at him, wide-eyed. Normally Luke isn't so forthcoming with praise, and this sudden outpouring of encouragement somehow makes the fact that this is likely the last time she'll see him all the more real. No emotions have hit her yet; no sadness, no grief or sense of loss. But she knows it will catch up with her soon. She tries to focus on his words.

“I need you to be strong now,” he says. “The entire world needs you to be strong. Remember the basics. Remember your training. No matter what happens, stand your ground and believe in yourself.”

Rey nods. “I will.”

“You can always find me on the drift.”

“I know.”

“Well.” He pats her shoulder awkwardly, his smile equally awkward, but Rey knows him; she knows his crippling inability to emote; she knows that, beneath his gruffness and awkwardness, his emotions are deep and real. She realizes then that she will miss him, and her eyes fill with unexpected tears as he gives her shoulder one final pat with a gruff “Be seeing you”, nods silently and civilly to Kylo, and strides with his usual purposefulness out into the hangar.

“Old friend,” Holdo says to Leia in the meantime. “I'm sorry we don't have time for a proper goodbye.”

“I think we both knew it would come to this someday,” Leia replies.

“Perhaps. But I had hoped…”

“I did too. But there's nothing for it now.”

“It's been an honor, Commissioner.”

“That's Former Commissioner to you,” Leia replies, smiling. “And the feeling is mutual, Commander.” The two women clasp hands, sharing one last smile, before Leia turns to Rey.

“Look after him,” she says to Rey.

“I will.”

“And look after Han, both of you. He'll need you.”

“We will,” Rey says; Kylo remains silent.

“I’m sorry we never got to know each other better.”

“I am too.”

“Goodbye, Rey.”

“...Goodbye, ma'am.”

The room turns to watch as Leia silently composes herself and walks, calm and dignified, to her doom.

\---

“ _Blitzkrieg_ to LOCCENT.” Finn’s voice crackles through the intercom, tired and subdued; Rey almost doesn’t recognize his voice. “I mean _Aegis_ to LOCCENT, sorry. We’ve made contact with the _Blitzkrieg_ ; er, that is, with Leia and Luke. We’re prepping to make the pilot switch. It’s going to be tough, with the high winds and all.”

“Proceed with caution,” Holdo commands.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll leave the camera feed on.” 

Finn switches on the feed, and there’s a long, awkward moment of silence, filled only by the sound of untamed waves and the unruly ocean wind, the sight of the two Jaegers locked in an arm clasp, forming a mostly-even path from one Jaeger to the other, and in the distance, the rich blue of the sky. Eventually, a hatch leading into the _Aegis_ ’s head pops open, and the figures of Leia and Luke slowly emerge. The room watches as Finn and Poe cross the rudimentary bridge formed by the Jaegers’ arms, clamber nimbly up to the hatch, and help the older Rangers back toward the bridge, watching closely as the older Rangers brace themselves against the wind and inch their way across to the _Aegis_. The room collectively releases a sigh of relief as Leia and Luke finally reach the open hatch leading into the _Aegis._ Poe lets out a loud whoop before he and Finn make their way back up into the _Blitzkrieg_.

“Pilot switch is done,” Luke barks. “Switching off the feed for now.”

The _Aegis_ ’s camera feed blinks off a moment later. There’s a bit of scuffling as the Rangers strap themselves in as best they can, and a bit more of awkward waiting as the _Blitzkrieg_ recharges the _Aegis_ , but finally, the two Jaegers are off, leaving the shallower area of ocean water they’d agreed to meet in and heading back towards the US.

As the rest of the mission control crew and onlookers retreat back to their stations, Holdo leans against a nearby table and stares intently at the live footage of the Kaiju, still veiled behind its wall of flame. 

“I don’t know how long the _Aegis_ will last, ma’am,” Bodhi says tentatively.

“Not long, I’m sure,” Holdo mutters. She spins on her heel, scanning the room until her eyes land on Rose.

“Tico,” she barks. “How long do you think it would take to repair the _Brawler_?”

“The _Brawler_?” Rose parrots, shocked. “Um… It shouldn’t take too long. The issue is more parts than time.”

“I need you and Han to muster up all the resources you can get your hands on,” Holdo replies, “and focus on preparing the _Brawler_ for combat. I don’t anticipate having to deploy it right now, but I want to have it ready just in case it’s needed.”

“Yes, ma’am. But...who would pilot it?”

“I would,” Holdo says grimly.

“Alone?” Rose says. “Ma’am, with all due respect, you copiloted a Jaeger from the Old Guard generation; the _Brawler_ had almost no radiation shielding. Your prognosis was even worse than Leia’s and Luke’s.”

“I’m well aware. But it’s an entirely possible eventuality. I don’t think I could find another pair of compatible pilots in this Shatterdome, even if I wanted to deploy inexperienced pilots against this Kaiju. No,” Holdo says firmly, “I will pilot the _Brawler_.”

“Ma’am,” Rose ventures, “if it comes to that, I could copilot with you.”

Holdo looks up at her.

“I know my way around the _Brawler_ ,” Rose rushes to explain, “and I’ve been a Ranger before, as you know.”

“Yes,” Holdo says slowly. “That could work.”

“Do you suppose we should try drifting together…?”

Holdo smiles at Rose then. “There’s no time, and I don’t think there is much need; I’m sure we’d drift just fine.”

“All right,” Rose says, pushing up from her seat. “I’ll start repairs on the _Brawler_.”

“Talk to Han about obtaining materials. The work will help him keep his mind off things.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rose turns and hurries out of the command center. Holdo watches the former Ranger step out into the hangar and give rapid instructions to a team of workers nearby before scurrying towards the exit, presumably in search of Han. Bodhi glances up discreetly at Holdo’s thoughtful profile, and wonders fleetingly at how tired she looks, how much older and more inscrutable her countenance has become since she buried her husband and put away her career as a Ranger.

“Well,” Holdo finally mutters, mostly to herself, and turns back toward the screens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy fourth to all readers in the US!


	15. Chapter 15

Rey and Kylo stick to their morning routine over the next few days—getting up at the crack of dawn, catching a quiet breakfast, and making a quick visit down to the memorium, before heading up to the command center, where Holdo, Bodhi, occasionally Han, and the rest of the mission control crew are usually already congregated, mugs of coffee or tea in hand, dark circles like tattoos under their bloodshot eyes, talking and typing and analyzing and sometimes just sitting and staring at the footage streaming in.

There’s a comfort to the routine, at least the part before they report to the command center; it’s comforting to see Kylo waiting at the juncture of the men’s and women’s wings, to eat silently with him in the empty canteen, to stand silently next to him in the memorium, contemplating death. It’s frighteningly easy to forget that there is a monstrous, fire-breathing Kaiju tearing through swaths of land, killing thousands, burning every knowable thing to ash, methodically sweeping from the west- to the east coast of the still-reeling US.

And it’s certainly much easier to not think about the fact that Leia and Luke are out there, dying slow deaths.

Holdo’s head snaps up when they arrive in the command center, and she nods shortly at them before bending her gaze back down to the papers Kaydel has laid out for her.

“...the amount of tranq that would be needed, I don’t know _what_ size dart we’re talking,” Kaydel’s saying. “I don’t think any dart that we could design would be able to penetrate that thing’s armor, anyway. There’s got to be…” She trails off, lost in thought.

“Keep going,” Holdo commands. “Tell me if you need anything else.”

“A team would be nice,” Kaydel mumbles.

“What about Hux?” Holdo suggests offhandedly as she turns to look over Bodhi’s shoulder. “From what I understand, he has a team of scientists who could potentially help.”

“A-Armitage? I...uh…” Kaydel stammers, turning bright red. She recollects herself, clearly aware of Holdo’s waiting stare, and says, “That’s...a good idea. I’ll contact him.”

“Good.” Holdo checks her watch, then turns away and switches on the comm line to the _Aegis_. “LOCCENT to _Aegis_. This is Commander Holdo. I haven’t heard from you since our last check-in; I assume that means you’re okay?”

“ _Aegis_ to LOCCENT.” Luke’s hushed voice crackles over the comm line after a brief pause. “This is Luke. We’re doing okay. We’re taking our five-hour break at the moment; we’ll be switching in with the _Rising Tide_ in about two hours.”

“Oh.” Holdo frowns at her watch. “Did I wake you? I thought you and Leia are usually just returning to your shift around this time. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, nothing major. We needed to stay on for a bit longer to help push the Kaiju back from the Rockies; it was getting uncomfortably close to Denver, and we still had people evacuating.”

“I see.” Holdo rubs absently at her forehead. “Tell me the next time this happens, so that we can reschedule our check-ins.”

“Will do.”

“Any trouble finding places to park for the night so far?”

“No,” Luke says after what sounds like a stifled yawn. “The military has been pretty good about finding spots for us to rest. They’ve even offered to feed us from their rations. And we just got cleared to use designated charging stations, so we don’t need to ferry more charge units from the Shatterdome.”

“That’s a relief,” Holdo mutters. “How’s Leia?”

Luke looks over at his sister, her pale face, wrinkled and sunken, unnervingly motionless in the still darkness; her chest barely moves as she breathes. The return to Ranger life, and the relentlessness of the past few days, has taken its toll on both of them; he’s ruined two handkerchiefs with blood, and Leia’s ruined three. He hasn’t exchanged many words with his sister, thought or spoken, since they departed the Shatterdome, but he knows just from the colors, the sounds, even the smells in the drift that Leia is fading, and she must know that he is too. 

“She’s doing okay,” Luke says. “We’re both holding out okay, considering.”

Holdo glances over at where Han sits, propped up against the back of a chair, a nearly-empty mug of coffee sitting on the table next to his hand. He glares back at her for a moment—not a malicious glare, but a defensive, hurt one. She flicks her eyes back to the screens, and watches the Kaiju tromp slowly about the base of the Rocky Mountain as she speaks.

“Well, give her our best. I’ll adjust our check-in time to avoid interrupting your sleep. Get some rest, Luke.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Godspeed,” Holdo mutters. Rey watches as Holdo absently rubs at her forehead again with her fingertips, almost scratching at it, her face uncharacteristically pinched. The Commander presently leans over and switches on the comm link to the _Blitzkrieg_ ; Rey glances at Kylo questioningly, who looks back at her with mild confusion.

“LOCCENT to _Blitzkrieg_ ,” Holdo barks, and Rey forgets her unease at seeing the Commander so anxious as Finn and Poe’s distant, tired voices crackle through the comm.

\---

After taking stock of the _Brawler_ ’s condition and conferring with Han, it becomes evident to Rose that, in order to restore the _Brawler_ to even its most basic level of functionality, they will need to call in everything at their disposal. The thought of doing this unnerves Rose; their material supply has been critically low for a long time, and with all but one Jaeger currently deployed against the Kaiju, she knows that repairs will be inevitable in the near future. And without knowing what else might come crawling and screaming and raging out of the breach…

Rose stands and paces in a slow circle, which Paige had counseled her to do whenever she could feel the panic coming on; and eventually, she finds her breath slowing back down to a normal rate. She stops pacing and thinks for a moment, staring down at the concrete floor in front of her toes.

When she looks up, she finds herself staring at the remains of the _Inferno_ in the distant corner of the hangar, its flame-resistant exterior shining dully in the dim light. It had been difficult for her to look at the _Inferno_ in the first few months after Paige’s death. Where it once evoked a sense of pride and belonging, after Paige’s death, it only reminded her of that brave, almost detachedly calm expression, the whites of Paige’s eyes flashing for a moment, the viscous blue acid seeping into her armor as Rose looked on helplessly, the final moments in the drift suffused with reassurance and comfort before ending with a bright flash of excruciating pain—

Rose sucks in a breath and paces in another circle to calm her thoughts. She looks cautiously at the _Inferno_ again, pointing her mind back to the issue at hand.

_We need materials, and the_ Inferno _is useless._

The thought of taking apart the _Inferno_ hurts; additionally, using parts of a Jaeger that was initially constructed from the parts of another Jaeger—the _Corinthian_ —feels oddly like courting bad luck. She pushes aside the feelings and the ominous shadow of the _Corinthian_ , and sets to work cataloguing the remains of the _Inferno_.

\---

Rey slides into the seat across from Kylo in the canteen and, without preamble, steals a few chunks of roasted potato from his plate. He looks on placidly, chewing on a mouthful of beef curry. Unlike Rey, he harbors little attachment to food, and has little interest in starchy, carbohydrate-loaded things like potatoes.

“Have you talked to Han yet?” Rey asks around the potatoes.

Kylo sighs after swallowing curry. “No,” he says slowly, picking at the chunks of beef in his bowl.

“I think he’s getting worse. We should go see him sometime,” Rey says.

“Probably not a bad idea,” Kylo mutters. He looks up after a stretch of silence and finds Rey with her eyes glued to his face.

“What?” He asks tersely.

“How are you doing?”

“I…” Kylo stares down again for a moment. “I’m not sure,” he says honestly.

“Do you miss her?”

Another pause. “No. Not yet.”

“But you will?”

“...Probably, yes.” It’s his own fault, really; he spent the past few weeks dithering about the Shatterdome, using his Ranger’s responsibilities as an excuse to avoid his parents, and only talking about the lightest and least offensive subjects when forced to be in their company; it’s his own fault that he ran away from all the opportunities to make things right; it’s his own fault that his last moments with Leia were tense, awkward, guilt-ridden, devoid of closure.

Rey regards him as she spoons curry into her mouth. “We should go see Han,” she says with quiet conviction; Kylo looks up at her with an inscrutable expression.

\---

“LOCCENT to _Phantom_ ,” Holdo says, after a slightly trying, but nonetheless informative, check-in with the _Blitzkrieg_ ; she yawns as discreetly as she can manage into the crook of her elbow as the line crackles softly with static.

“ _Phantom_ here.” Jyn’s voice finally answers, stolid and smooth as usual.

“Status report,” Holdo says.

“Not much new,” Jyn sighs; machinery whines quietly in the background. “Cassian and I have been experimenting with our theory that the Kaiju uses some kind of internal radar system to detect its surroundings, since it’s obviously not able to physically see very far. We’ve had some success using electronic interference signals to obfuscate our location, and electromagnetic waves to induce temporary confusion, but it hasn’t done much besides irritate the Kaiju.”

“We have a plan to try something new today,” Cassian chimes in. “While the _Rising Tide_ is on its break, we’re going to use the Grand Lake as cover, and _Aegis_ and _Blitzkrieg_ are going to herd the Kaiju close enough toward us for our EM waves to have more effect. Maybe we can at least temporarily disable it. _Aegis_ and _Blitzkrieg_ are getting into position as we speak.”

“Keep me posted on that,” Holdo commands.

“Well, actually, we’re just about ready to go; _Aegis_ and _Blitzkrieg_ have informed me that they’ve caught up with the Kaiju and are steering him around toward us now.”

“Good. I’ll stay on the line, then. Standby while I switch to the group comm.” Holdo leans over and opens the group comm link. “LOCCENT to all deployed Jaegers. Turn on your camera feeds; I’d like to observe today’s group jockey.”

“Yes, ma’am.” After a brief crackly silence, all three feeds show up on Bodhi’s terminal, which he quickly throws onscreen.

Holdo, staring at the screens and rapidly taking everything in, absently smooths down a wrinkle in the pant leg of her uniform before realizing, with a start, that her legs are trembling. She stares down at them for a moment with a mixture of betrayal and bewilderment; she can’t remember the last time she trembled in the face of anything. Perhaps it’s the little sleep and even less food she’s managed to get over the past few days… 

She lowers herself into the Commander’s chair with a slight huff, and feels the strength leave her legs as soon as she’s seated. There’s no time for this; she can’t afford to weaken and break down now, not while Luke and Leia are out on the frontline, not while all but one Jaeger is deployed. She grits her teeth, straightens her back, and turns to Bodhi.

“Keep an eye on the distance of all three Jaegers from the Kaiju. I want to make sure none of them get too close.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

\---

“ _Aegis_ to _Phantom_ ,” Luke’s voice, tired and gravelly, cuts through the mechanical whirring of the _Phantom_ and Cassian’s steady stream of whispered expletives in a mixture of Spanish and English. Jyn shoots him a look, and he bites his lip long enough for her to unmute and reply.

“ _Phantom_ here. What’s your status?”

“We’re poised to begin pressuring the Kaiju in your direction. _Blitzkrieg_ is also standing by. Are you in position?”

“Yep. Let us know when you get close.” After waiting for the Kaiju to lose interest in the area, the _Phantom_ had rapidly made its way over to Grand Lake, about eighty miles northwest of Denver, ensured that all waterproofing seals were in place, and submerged as much of itself as it could in the lake, its head and shoulders protruding from the water. 

The surrounding area has remained mostly untouched by the Kaiju, probably due to its being in the shadow of a long, craggy line of mountains and its relatively low population concentration (the Kaiju, in true Exterminator fashion, has focused most of its destructive attention on cities and suburban areas.) As the _Phantom_ lies in wait in the lake, and as Cassian scrolls through their configurations over and over again with nervous energy, Jyn takes the time to settle back and admire the natural beauty around them. She hasn’t spent much time in the US before, and has been pleasantly surprised by the abundance of natural scenery the country has to offer. The surrounding town and leisure centers emptied out and closed long before the Kaiju reached Colorado’s border, and the only sounds filtering in through the _Phantom_ ’s audial inputs are of lapping water, twittering birds, the whisper of wind passing through grass and leaves. In the distance, over a fringe of vibrantly green trees and grass, the snow-capped mountains, silent and majestic and unsympathetic, stand, motionless, observant; the sky is an indistinct color, covered by a thin layer of smoke from the constant fires in the distance.

“It’s beautiful,” Jyn mumbles.

“Hmm,” Cassian replies absently. “It’s about to get ugly.”

“I know,” Jyn says with a sigh. “All the more reason to enjoy this view while you can.”

Cassian looks up then, first at her, and then at their surroundings.

“Hmm,” he says again, his arrow-sharp eyes relaxing. He glances over at Jyn, looking momentarily into her patient, grounded, gray-green eyes, and it’s what he imagines looking into the face of Athena must feel like. Her stolid serenity inexplicably calms him; he offers her a quiet smile.

“ _Aegis_ to _Phantom_. We’re about 15 klicks from your position. Standby.”

“I see it,” Jyn says, pointing. Cassian turns his head, the smile sliding from his face, and they watch as a column of ash-gray smoke rises in the distance between the sloping lines of the mountains in the west, and as the smoke gradually thickens and becomes more opaque, eventually swallowing up a large slice of the already-hazy western sky. When a yellowish-orange glow begins to creep over the edges of the mountains, staining the trees and dirt and snow-covered mountaintops, Jyn and Cassian begin bringing the _Phantom_ out of low power mode and initializing their wave emitters.

\---

Kaydel’s phone trills as she stands in front of a patchwork of tables in the science wing, staring at the papers spread across the motley surfaces. With calculations still whizzing in her head, she absently reaches for her phone and glances at the number.

And almost throws her phone.

After a long moment of consideration, a flush already creeping up her neck, she answers the call, pressing her phone slowly to her ear.

“Hi, Armitage,” she says, and _thank god I didn’t stutter ohmigod_.

“Kaydel,” the voice on the other end says softly. “I got a call from that Commander of yours that you need a team to come up with a strategy against the Kaiju.”

“Y-Yeah.” _Aaaand there it is, goddamnit Connix_ —

“Why,” Armitage says slowly, “didn’t you call me? I haven't heard from you in days.”

Kaydel winces. “You must know why.”

“How many times do I have to remind you?” Armitage sighs, but his words, exasperated as they are, are spoken gently. “We’ve been in each other’s _minds_. There isn’t much use avoiding each other, now that we know...what we know. But if you want to, what happened in the drift can stay in the drift.”

Kaydel’s mind lingers for a moment on her memory of the drift, moments before they’d encountered the Judge; she remembers the way Armitage’s presence, almost tangible at the tips of her fingers, was surprisingly warm and welcoming, and how, as they neared each other, the emotion that fluttered outward from him was something startlingly akin to affection.

“I… I don’t know what I want,” she finally admits.

A release of held breath on the other end. “That’s all right,” Armitage says, his tone subdued but genuine. “I just ask that you not hide from me.”

“All right,” Kaydel says after a moment of hesitation. “I can do that.”

“All right. Should I send a car?”

“...W-what?”

“I mean,” Armitage says, his voice carefully composed, “if we’re really going to try to figure this thing out together, it doesn’t make sense for us to work separately. And I imagine I can’t just waltz into the Shatterdome, since it's technically a military base. So I thought…”

Kaydel stares at her phone with the eyes of a deer caught in the headlights.

Armitage clears his throat in the silence. “Should I take that as a no?”

“No! I mean yes. I mean—”—Kaydel trips hopelessly over her tongue—“There’s no need to send a car. I can just take—”

“Public transportation?” She can practically hear the bridge of his nose wrinkling as he contemplates her squeezed aboard a public bus, crowded on every side by sweaty bodies, jostled in all directions by the nonexistent suspension system, forced to entrust her comfort to grimy plastic seats.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Armitage says briskly. “I’ll send a car. I insist.”

“O—Okay—but—” Kaydel tries furiously to come up with a reason to decline, before realizing with a start that she doesn’t _want_ to decline. Armitage leans away from his phone for a moment, his voice hushed in the background, before he returns. 

“My driver can be there in twenty minutes. Can you be ready by then?”

“I…” Kaydel begins to gather up the papers scattered about her, suddenly self-conscious of the untidy spread. “Yes, I think I will,” she manages.

“I’ll see you, then.”

“Y-yes.”

After they hang up, Kaydel wastes several of her twenty minutes staring at her phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly just buildup... Tags will be changing soon. Stay tuned!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor update to tags. It's probably not going to be who you think it will be.

Rey and Kylo enter the command center just in time to hear Holdo bark an expletive at the screen, causing an already-jumpy Bodhi to just about fly out of his chair.

“Fall back, _Phantom_. That’s an order.”

“Commander, if we can just get a bit closer, I’m sure our EM waves could—”

“Your hull temperature is almost critical. You need to fall back before your Jaeger sustains damage from the heat.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cassian’s voice grumbles; Rey watches as the Jaeger retreats into the rapidly receding surface of the Grand Lake, its torso still mostly above the water. The natural beauty of the landscape surrounding the lake, which Jyn had been admiring not an hour ago, is now a knotted wasteland covered by the corpses of buildings and plant life, awash in gusts of pale gray ash; the sky overhead is an apocalyptic shade of copper, broken up by columns of dark gray smoke. Not a quarter of a mile from the _Phantom_ stands the Kaiju, closer to the camera than Rey has seen over the past few days; between the billowing, flickering tongues of flame, the Kaiju is just barely visible, its eyes peering from under its scaley, rocky brow, the three rows of spikes along its back glowing brightly. Dark gray smoke issues from its nose and mouth in puffs.

“Like Jyn said earlier,” Cassian says, a bit petulantly, “we’ve only been able to confuse and irritate the Kaiju from this distance. We need to get closer, Commander.”

“I understand,” Holdo grits. “Find a safer way to do it, and I’ll authorize it.” She turns away from the screens momentarily to nod at Rey and Kylo, and the first thing Rey notices is that Commander Holdo’s nose is trickling blood, and her bottom lip is bleeding.

“Commander, your…” Rey motions toward the bottom of her face, at a loss for words.

“What?” Holdo presses a hand to her nose and seems surprised to see blood when she examines her fingers. She pulls out a dark red handkerchief and presses it absently to her nose, not noticing her bloody lip, before starting briskly towards another crew member, hailing him with a question. 

“What’s going on?” Rey says to Bodhi as she nears the front of the room.

“The other Jaegers, minus _Rising Tide_ , are trying out a new plan of attack. _Blitzkrieg_ and _Aegis_ are herding the Kaiju towards _Phantom_ , who’s taking cover in a lake, to see if forcing the Kaiju to be closer to the _Phantom_ will increase the effect of the _Phantom_ ’s wave attacks.”

“Not working?”

“So far the Kaiju’s been pressing back on _Blitzkrieg_ and _Aegis_ ,” Bodhi says, frustrated. “We haven’t been able to get it much closer to the _Phantom_.”

“What’s up with…?” Rey says, lowering her tone and stealing a glance at Holdo’s back.

“She’s stressed,” Bodhi says simply. “And anxious.”

“There’s a lot to be anxious about,” Kylo observes blandly.

“Yeah, but…” Rey steals another glance. “I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Me neither,” Bodhi mutters.

“ _Phantom_ , talk to me,” Holdo demands, pocketing her handkerchief as she strides back towards the front of the room, eyes ablaze.

“We're not sure what's happening, but it seems like the Kaiju is starting to move closer our way.” Cassian sounds bewildered and hopeful.

“What changed?”

“I'm not sure… It seems confused, suddenly. Like it's disoriented and doesn't know where it should go. Maybe our EM waves are finally having an effect?”

“ _Aegis_ to _Phantom_ ,” Luke pants through the comm system, his voice ragged with exhaustion. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”

Holdo flicks her eyes to the screens; sure enough, the Kaiju seems to be stumbling slightly, shying away from the other two Jaegers and approaching the edge of the lake. It unleashes a bone-rattling cry, then widens its mouth further and blasts a column of bright flame in the _Blitzkrieg_ ’s direction. Finn and Poe jump nimbly out of the way; the Kaiju takes a lumbering step after them, its face contorted with malice.

“Cassian,” Jyn says tightly.

“I see it,” he replies. They move in.

“Keep your distance,” Holdo stresses.

“We see an opening,” Jyn says. “Maybe we can—” She breaks off, her mind clearly occupied with coordinating with Cassian.

The room watches as the _Phantom_ steps forward, now emerging almost entirely from the water, its EM emitters at full blast. The Kaiju takes a faltering step away, but is met by the _Blitzkrieg'_ s photon blasts and the _Aegis_ ’s plasma shields, bright and undulating and utterly unforgiving.

“Turning up the EM amplitude.” Jyn and Cassian close in on the Kaiju with bracing eagerness. The Kaiju’s reaction to the attack is disturbingly visible; the bright bluish fire issuing from its mouth snuffs out, and it turns its head away from the _Phantom_ with a groan, pulling its head in close to the natural shielding of its body; the flames surrounding its body seem to disintegrate slightly, and the glowing spikes on its back dim to a rusty red.

“It’s working!” Poe yelps.

“Reloading photon blaster,” Finn yells hurriedly.

“We’re reading a drop in external temperatures,” Jyn shouts. “Moving in closer.” The _Phantom_ takes one step out of the water and onto the shore, then another step, approaching cautiously.

“Wait,” Holdo says, half to herself. As she watches, the Kaiju blinks rapidly, its eyes shifting first to the _Phantom_ , then to the _Blitzkrieg_ , then back to the _Phantom_ ; its gaze is unfettered by confusion.

“ _Phantom_ , fall back!” Holdo commands urgently. “The Kaiju is feigning—”

Rey feels it before it happens, before the Kaiju even moves; she feels the chill of foreboding before the Kaiju uncurls out of its defensive stance and lunges at the advancing _Phantom_ , its front claws reaching, its spikes flashing bright white, its roar bordering on a shriek. The wall of flame around it, having faded to a paper-thin wisp of a veil, swells to full blast. The room watches as the Kaiju, moving faster than it’s ever moved, throws itself at the _Phantom_. 

The comm explodes with sound—Cassian’s and Jyn’s cries break through the static in bursts; Finn and Poe shout wordlessly as they charge towards the Kaiju, their photon blasters and short-range grenade launchers hot; Luke and Leia, grimly silent, rush toward the _Phantom_ as well. The _Phantom’_ s camera feed cuts to static moments after the Kaiju makes contact, and the room watches from the _Aegis_ and _Blitzkrieg_ camera feeds as the Kaiju grapples with the smaller _Phantom_ , pushing it backwards towards the lake, roaring mightily as it breathes white-hot flames onto the _Phantom_ ’s outer shell and tears at the rapidly-melting metal with its claws.

Holdo’s hand flashes to the comm system. “ _Rising Tide_ ,” she shouts into the mic, “Naomi and Blazhenstovna, deploy immediately.”

“Commander?” Jannah’s voice, groggy and slightly annoyed, crackles quietly, at odds with the terrifying footage of the _Phantom_ frantically wrestling with the Kaiju.

“ _Phantom_ is down at Grand Lake, in close combat with the Kaiju,” Holdo says, her words tumbling out in rapid succession. “I need you to deploy immediately and provide backup with _Blitzkrieg_ and _Aegis_.”

“Господи боже,” Zorii mutters.

“I’m sending you the coordinates now,” Holdo says, turning quickly to shoot a pointed glare at Bodhi, who snaps out of his paralysis and attempts to apply his trembling fingers to his keyboard.

  
“We are on our way,” Jannah replies, sounding instantly awake. “We are not far, just a klick or so south. _Phantom_ , hang in there.”

Cassian’s continued screamed expletives are their only answer; Jyn has gone quiet. 

“Oh my god,” someone near Rey breathes.

In the camera feed, the flames around the Kaiju swallow the _Phantom_ from view; the _Blitzkrieg_ unleashes what seems to be all of its arsenal on the Kaiju, causing the it to falter for a moment; the _Aegis_ , close on the _Blitzkrieg_ ’s heels, attempts to form a cylindrical shield to contain the Kaiju and block it from the _Phantom_. The Kaiju shakes off the attacks, batting at the shield uselessly before lashing its heavy tail at the _Aegis_ , knocking Luke and Leia off balance. As the _Aegis_ stumbles, the Kaiju rounds on the _Blitzkrieg_ with renewed fury, its jaws wide open. With an incoherent shout, Finn and Poe loose another round of photon blasts in the direction of the Kaiju’s head; the Kaiju reels back with a startled grunt, and, to everyone’s surprise, a dark gray scale from the underside of the Kaiju’s jaw falls away, hitting the ground with a dull clatter.

The Kaiju roars with pain and rage, and the _Blitzkrieg_ braces itself for another attack; however, surprisingly, the Kaiju turns its back on the _Blitzkrieg_ and refocuses its attention on the already-embattled _Phantom_ , which now half-kneels in the water, most of its core functions offline. No one in the command center can tell whether the _Phantom_ ’s sound feed has been damaged, or Cassian and Jyn have simply stopped making any noise.

As the Kaiju reaches for the _Phantom_ , its surrounding veil of flames rallying, and as the _Blitzkrieg_ and _Aegis_ vie for its attention, the _Rising Tide_ bursts into view and barrels headlong into the scene.

“Jyn!” Zorii’s frantic voice cuts through. “Jyn, do you read? Cassian?”

The Kaiju looks up at the incoming Jaeger, and is met with a high-pressure blast of water from the _Rising Tide_ ’s hydrocannon. The _Rising Tide_ wades into what’s left of the lake and frantically harvests water, trying desperately to drive the Kaiju back. However, the Kaiju rapidly dials its external temperature up, and the water from the hydrocannon mostly evaporates before it can reach. With a shake of its head, it reaches for the _Phantom_ with dogged tenacity.

The room is deathly silent as, despite the onslaught of attacks from the other three Jaegers, the Kaiju methodically reduces the _Phantom_ to molten metal, shrieking with victory as it shreds the rapidly-softening helmet and chest of the Jaeger. 

\---

“ _Cariña_.” 

“Hmm?”

The pain had gotten worse and worse, clawing into places deep in her body that she didn’t even know could burn, and then, oddly enough, the pain—along with all sensation—seemed to dissipate. Perhaps she’s inhaled so much smoke that asphyxiation is setting in; perhaps her body has sustained so much damage from the fire that her nerves have all been destroyed. Jyn leans against something on the ground; it stirs, and she realizes that it’s Cassian.

“ _Cariña_.” Again. She isn’t sure if it’s coming from his ruined mouth or through the drift, if the drift is even still active. But it’s Cassian’s voice, saying something in Spanish. She looks down; their hands, almost unrecognizable, are interlocked.

_Cariña_. His voice is clear and calm. _Dear one_.

“Yes,” Jyn replies. “I’m here.”

They watch as the world burns.

\---

_Need to contact their next of kin. Need to see if anything is salvageable. Need to focus on defeating this Kaiju._

_Damn it. It’s happening again._

“Commander.”

Holdo swipes again at the blood seeping from her nose and looks up with empty eyes.

“Ma’am, Korr Sella from the UN on the line.”

Holdo reaches wordlessly for the phone, presses it to her ear, and waits.

“Commander, I heard about the loss of two of your Rangers in Colorado. I just wanted to offer my heartfelt condolences. I understand they were excellent Rangers.”

She waits.

“You must be wondering why I’m really calling. I’ve been authorized to let you know that the UN has officially abandoned the Wall Program and is bringing the Jaeger Program back into commission. We’re not sure if we will be able to fund the construction of a new fleet of Jaegers, but we wanted to let you know that the resources of all member states of the UN will be at your disposal, in service of helping your remaining team of Rangers face this Kaiju more effectively.”

_Too late. Too late._

“Ma’am… What is it you need from us?”

“Raw materials,” Holdo responds automatically. Her head spins; she sits down in the nearest chair; her knees knock together from the violence of their trembling. “Construction workers. Engineers. Aircraft for transporting Jaegers.”

“All of that can be arranged—”

“And nukes.”

“...Ma’am, I—”

“I need every nuclear weapon you can get your hands on.”

“The US has expressed strong objections to the use of nuclear power on their soil—”

“We’ve run out of options, and there is no time.” Holdo swipes aggressively at her bleeding nose. “You’re asking me what I need to defeat this Kaiju. I’m telling you we need nukes.”

There’s a long pause. Finally, Korr replies, with some reluctance: “I’ll see what I can do.”

Holdo ends the call and hands the phone back to the waiting crew member, who scuttles away from the disconcertingly calm Commander. She turns in her seat and stares for a long, unblinking moment out into the hangar, at the silhouette of the _Brawler_.

\---

A few hours later, despite the best efforts of the heavily demoralized team, the Kaiju has torn a streak of destruction and ash through northern Texas and Oklahoma, and has begun moving northeast towards Chicago. 

The _Aegis_ plods away from the Kaiju’s current position, towards the agreed-upon spot for its turn to rest and recharge. The inside of Luke’s helmet is damp with moisture, and sweat runs freely from his hairline, pooling in the collar of his uniform, mingling with the steady trickle of blood from his nose. He blinks away the sweat from his eyes; his limbs feel like wooden blocks; the sound of Cassian’s and Jyn’s screams and the terrible silence that followed ring in his head, an inescapable torture; he feels utterly defeated, alone.

_Alone?_

He looks over at his twin, and realizes that Leia is asleep. He reaches out in the drift, prodding gently at her mind, before realizing that Leia isn’t asleep; she’s unconscious.

He stares at his twin for a long moment, before turning and piloting the Jaeger solo to their resting spot, his heart heavy in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh


	17. Chapter 17

“...able to move much faster than we initially thought. And, on top of that, if it is using some kind of internal radar system to gauge its surroundings, as Jyn and Cassian initially hypothesized, it’s able to resist attacks that interfere with its internal radar, even at a close range.”

“So far it’s been very good at hiding the extent of its abilities.”

“However,” someone else on the line drones, “the—the—is it _Blitzkrieg_?—the _Blitzkrieg_ ’s photon blasts were able to dislodge one of the smaller sales on the underside of its chin, where its armor seems to be the thinnest. If we can find a way to target such areas…”

“Difficult target, that.”

A sigh. “I agree. We went through a lot of trouble to force the Kaiju into close combat, and we lost a Jaeger in the process. If we want to try close-range tactics, we’ll need to come up with another strategy.”

_We?_ Holdo scoffs silently.

“Any word on Leia?” Someone asks no one in particular.

“She regained consciousness this morning. She’s insisting that she’s still fit to pilot.”

Holdo stands, ramrod-straight as usual, her hands clasped neatly behind her back, her eyes bloodshot, the skin of her upper lip rubbed raw by handkerchiefs and tissues. With the official re-commissioning of the Jaeger Program, military leaders of almost all UN member states have managed to organize a meeting to debrief the situation and to settle on a plan going forward. Holdo finds her mind drifting as the others compare notes.

_We’re wasting time here_ , she thinks furiously. It’s already been about thirty-six hours since the loss of the _Phantom_. While she’s stuck here babysitting these incompetent fools, the Kaiju has moved rapidly across the US, tearing through the southeastern states in a long arc before curving northward towards the nation’s capital, and, according to its current trajectory, could very well reach DC within minutes, and the European coast within two days… She clenches her fists behind her back, struggling to keep her face impassive and attentive.

At that moment, Kaydel pokes her head into Holdo’s office. “Commander? Just thought you and the others would like to know; Armitage and I have figured out a rough plan to deliver a tranq to the Kaiju.”

Holdo’s gaze flickers away from the screen; she looks at Kaydel for a moment, not seeming to recognize the scientist at first.

“Connix,” Holdo finally says, shaking free of her trance. “Connix,” she repeats. “Yes, come in. Everyone, this is Kaydel Ko Connix, our chief scientist in residence. I’ve tasked her with analyzing the Kaiju’s physiology and finding potential ways of utilizing the Kaiju’s natural weaknesses.”

There’s a vague mumble of greetings as Kaydel steps timidly into the room. She holds up her phone, which shows Armitage conferenced in via video chat. “Is it okay if Armitage is listening in?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Holdo says, nodding. “You have an update for us?”

“Um,” Kaydel mumbles; she realizes then that she’s still in her Kaiju blue-stained apron and latex gloves, her glasses-accommodating goggles perched atop her nest of hair. She reaches first for the apron, then for the goggles, then decides against fiddling with her appearance.

“We think that, given what we know about the physiology of the Kaiju and the pattern of its heat emanation, the best course of action would be to drop a capsule made of tungsten and filled with a high concentration of gas tranquilizer from a very high altitude. Tungsten has an extremely high melting point and is very brittle, and combined with the fact that the Kaiju’s body heat primarily radiates outward horizontally, we’re hoping that these factors will minimize the chances of the capsule being damaged before it reaches the Kaiju. Armitage and I surveyed a variety of tranquilizers, and we’ve settled on a combination of gases that we think will be potent enough for a...a thing of...that size.”

“We’re hoping this strategy will do essentially what the _Phantom_ was trying to do,” Armitage chimes in, his voice subdued and tinny over Kaydel’s phone, “which is to create an opening for the other Jaegers to move in and finish the job.”

“Commander,” someone on the line interjects, “what _do_ you think will be required to finish the job?”

Holdo snaps her gaze back to the tiled faces of military leaders. “Nothing short of nuclear power is going to take down a Cat-5; a single nuclear missile is barely enough to down a Cat-3.”

That gives the rest of the people in the meeting pause.

“I’m aware,” Holdo continues, a touch of acid in her voice, “that the participants of this meeting are reluctant to reveal their nuclear arsenal, and I understand that no one wants to authorize a nuclear strike on their own continent, let alone their own soil. But if we let this Kaiju run its course, it will finish what it came here to do, and there will be nothing left to salvage.”

Blinks, stares, scowls.

“I have one Jaeger, the _Dark Knight_ , that’s capable of safely deploying nuclear missiles,” Holdo says. “I was hoping to keep it on standby in case another Kaiju emerged from the breach, but it seems we no longer have an option. My proposal is that we figure out a place to rendezvous; I’ll need some way of ferrying the _Dark Knight_ to wherever it needs to get, which I was told to apply to you all for.”

“I can spot you there,” Japan pipes up. “We can volunteer one of our freight planes.”

“Thank you,” Holdo says. “The _Dark Knight_ currently only has one nuclear weapon that might be capable of doing considerable damage to the Kaiju, but that weapon happens to be its nuclear reactor… So we will need someone else to provide nuclear missiles that we can outfit the _Dark Knight_ with.”

An awkward silence.

“I’m not asking for you all to fling open the curtain on your nuclear arsenals,” Holdo says, really struggling now to keep the exasperation and frustration out of her manner. “I’m just asking for you all to provide me with the means to take this thing down. Doesn’t have to be nuclear; any form of firepower will be of use. And,” Holdo says pointedly, directing all of her unblinking icy-blue stare at the US General, “you don’t have to worry about nuking your own territory, since it’s looking like the Kaiju is going to be on its way to Europe shortly.”

The US General’s jaw drops; Kaydel makes a distressed squeak; Korr hisses a startled “Commander!”

“We have no more time to waste,” Holdo plows on, heedless. “With Japan’s freight plane, I can transport the _Dark Knight_ wherever it needs to go, probably within one or two days. But the _Dark Knight_ is going to be useless against this Kaiju without your help.”

Korr, accustomed to tense meetings, suppresses a sigh, before announcing in a calm voice: “Latest reports indicate that the Kaiju has torn through DC and has entered the Atlantic Ocean, and seems to be heading for Europe. With its current heading and speed, it will reach Portugal in about two days.”

“Then we’ll meet in Portugal,” Holdo says decisively. “Tojo, how long do you think it would take for us to transport the _Dark Knight_ to Portugal?”

“If I begin preparations immediately,” the Japanese General muses, “I’ll need about ten hours to arrive in Hong Kong. I’m not sure how long it would take to load the Jaeger on board, but after that, I estimate the flight to Portugal to take about thirteen hours.”

“So we can be in Portugal in roughly twenty-five hours,” Holdo says. “Who’s going to meet the _Dark Knight_ there?”

The question hangs in the air for a long moment. Finally, the Portuguese representative shifts in her seat and clears her throat.

“We will begin evacuating our civilians,” she says. “We have an arrangement with Spain. We will also designate a city capable of supporting an impromptu military base.”

Holdo nods in acknowledgement, and waits.

The Chinese General leans forward slightly, his mien unperturbed. “China can contribute nuclear artillery,” he says, as though he’s discussing the dinner menu. “We also have an array of nonnuclear artillery and ordnance that could be rigged to your Jaeger.”

“Thank you, General,” Holdo says.

“Russia will contribute as well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The US General clears his throat. “The US will contribute as well.”

_After the Kaiju’s left your territory, you coward_. Holdo bites back the comment and inclines her head.

A scattering of other countries volunteer nonnuclear weapons, which Holdo endeavors to graciously accept. “I’ll put you all in contact with my chief engineer, Rose Tico, to figure out the technical details of modifying the _Dark Knight,_ ” she promises.

“U-um, Commander? If I may?” Kaydel chirps nervously from behind Holdo. Holdo turns, mildly startled; she’d forgotten about Kaydel.

“We’ll also need a way to transport and drop the tranq,” Kaydel continues. “Perhaps some sort of aircraft…?”

A woman leans into the frame of the US General’s camera and mutters something in his ear.

“We can provide an aircraft,” he announces. “I understand that we think that the Kaiju uses some kind of internal radar system to detect its surroundings? Then it sounds like we’ll need a stealth plane?”

“Yes,” Kaydel replies, “but it will also need to be able to deploy the bomb from a high altitude at a target on the ground, with minimal margin of error. Would that be possible?”

The General exchanges a few more muttered words with the woman, then leans back and nods to his camera. “We’ll figure something out. You’ll send us the specs for your capsule?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right,” Holdo says. “I think that concludes this meeting, if no one else has anything to discuss.” The participants of the meeting mumble awkward, perfunctory goodbyes before exiting. Holdo waits for the last face to flicker to black, and her shoulders sag.

_Need to talk to Tico. Need to let Ren and Solana know._

She sucks in a breath and turns on her heels, striding past Kaydel with hardly a glance in her direction.

“Is she all right?” Armitage asks as Kaydel follows suit. “She seems...distracted.”

“I don’t know,” Kaydel answers honestly. “She’s been like that since the start of this Cat-5 situation.”

“It isn’t good for a Commander to be so distracted.”

“I’m sure she’s just stressed. She’s being pulled in a lot of different directions. And with Jyn and Cassian...” Kaydel trails off. The loss of the _Phantom_ and its Rangers is a raw wound for everyone; no one has had the heart to clear out the _Phantom'_ s stall in the hangar, or to pack up Jyn’s and Cassian’s rooms.

Armitage huffs a dismissive breath, as though the topic is a can of worms he’d rather not open. “Well,” he says, in that charmingly whispery way of his, “we have a tungsten capsule to build, don’t we? I’ll send a car?”

Kaydel grins at him in agreement. “I guess so.”

\---

“I don’t understand,” Rey says, her mind reeling. “Why do they need us to go?”

“I think everyone agrees that Jaegers have the best chance of defeating this Kaiju,” Holdo explains. “No military in the world has something quite like a Jaeger—something that is agile, combat-capable, and yet powerful enough to pose a threat. Our other option is to just nuke the Iberian Peninsula thoroughly and hope the Kaiju goes down with it, but obviously that’s a last resort.”

“But what about the breach? What if we have an opportunity to close it?”

“The _Brawler_ is almost ready to be deployed,” Holdo says. “If an opportunity arises, I will pilot it with Tico, and we will handle closing the breach. Right now, we need the _Dark Knight_ in Portugal.”

Rey swallows the knot of anxiety that’s forming rapidly in her throat and nods.

“Something wrong, Solana?” Holdo’s question is attentive, but her gaze and her tone are distant. Rey straightens her shoulders, and shakes her head no.

“All right. Good luck, Ranger,” Holdo says perfunctorily. “Dismissed.” She bends her head back down to the technical specs Rose had brought her moments before; Rey has nothing left to do but leave the office on numb feet.

\---

A few hours later, hardly enough time to pack and to find Rose and Han in the hangar and bid them farewell, and Rey finds herself reporting to the runway, a small bag with an extra uniform and the barest of essentials slung over her shoulder, her hair tied back, her face scrubbed clean, her heart thudding wildly against her ribs. Kylo approaches her from the side and stops beside her. She turns her head up to look at him. She hasn’t talked to him or even seen him since they witnessed Jyn and Cassian’s death. He returns her stare; she sees that there are dark, heavy bags under his insomnia-dulled eyes. 

“I haven’t had a chance to add Jyn’s and Cassian’s photos to the memorium,” Rey finally says. It’s a trivial comment, but Kylo seems to understand; he detaches an arm from his side and envelopes her in a hug, holding her close to his chest. Rey screws her eyes shut and leans into his reassuring warmth.

“We can do this,” Kylo says; he sounds exhausted, determined.

“We don’t have a choice,” Rey points out, her voice muffled in his jacket.

“No,” Kylo agrees softly. “We don’t.”

“Rey!” Someone calls. Rey lifts her head and sees Rose running at them, shielding a sheaf of papers with her arms from the fat droplets of rain that have begun to leak from the blanket of dark clouds overhead.

“I almost forgot in all the rush,” Rose huffs as she approaches. “Could you take these with you? They’re the plans I drew up for modifying the _Dark Knight_ to support more artillery. The countries that are sending weapons are also sending teams of engineers to help put everything together once you all rendezvous in Portugal; they’ll need these.”

“Thanks,” Rey says, taking the papers into her own arms. “Back to good old paper and ink, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rose says, smiling ruefully. “I didn’t want to assume that electricity would be a given.”

The morbid practicality of her statement makes the three stare quietly at each other for a moment.

“Well,” Rose says, drawing herself up, “good luck, you two! I’ll see you after all of this is over.”

“Yeah,” Rey says, trying to match Rose’s smile. “Be seeing you.”

As Rose hurries into the hangar, Han steps out through the entrance and stands uncertainly at the edge of the runway, his arms clenched at his sides. Rey sees him before Kylo does, and prods Kylo gently; Kylo follows her line of sight and stills at the sight of his father.

Han takes another step forward, hesitantly.

“Ren and Solana?” Someone calls behind them. Rey turns around, and, seeing that it’s one of the crew members of the Japanese freight aircraft, shoots an urgent look at Kylo. 

Han looks between the two of them, torn. He takes another step.

“We’re ready to go,” the crew member informs them. “Just need to buckle you in, and we’ll be on our way.”

“We’re coming,” Rey assures him, and as the crew member hurries into the aircraft, she prods Kylo again.

“Now or never,” she mutters.

Kylo clenches and unclenches his hands repeatedly; he lifts his eyes slowly and stares across the runway at his father for another moment. Han’s expression wavers between yearning, regret, fear. 

“Let’s go,” Kylo says shortly; he turns his back on his father and strides towards the aircraft, bracing against the steadying onslaught of raindrops. Rey stands there for a moment longer and watches Han as he slowly turns away, his shoulders hunched as he reenters the hangar with a defeated step.

Not ten minutes later, she and Kylo are on the freight plane, strapped into seats against the unforgiving metal wall of the plane, their toes pushed up against one of the dismantled pieces of the _Dark Knight_ , the deafening clatter of wind and rain and machinery filling their ears. If Kylo knows that Rey disapproves, he shows no sign of caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a massive jump from their first jockey, oh dear D:
> 
> Also writing salty Holdo is surprisingly fun!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy August!

When Rey stirs after hours of oscillating restlessly over the line between sleep and wakefulness, it’s to Kylo’s hand on her shoulder, shaking gently.

“Rey,” he’s saying. “We’re almost there.”

“Hmm?” Rey mutters groggily, feeling even more tired than before. She realizes then that the aircraft is attempting a choppy descent, and looks at Kylo with wide eyes.

“Do you know if we’re still rendezvousing in Portugal?” She asks.

“I think so. Haven’t heard of any change in plans.”

“I wish there was a window in here,” she mutters, yawning and stretching.

“Not sure if we’d want to see how it’s like out there.”

“Has the Kaiju made landfall?”

“Not yet.” Kylo’s jaw is set. “But it's still moving faster than we anticipated. Should be any minute.”

“I hope everyone’s evacuated,” Rey says; a spike of fear and frustrated helplessness stabs through her. Kylo instinctively reaches over for her hand.

“Once we land, we’ll have about ten hours minimum before the _Dark Knight_ is ready to go,” he says, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I was told to try and rest as much as possible before we’re deployed. It’s probably wise for you to do the same.”

“How can I relax?” Rey demands. “Whenever I close my eyes, I just see the _Phantom_ melting.”

“I know,” Kylo says, his eyes flat, dark. “I can’t put it out of my head, either. But we need to try.”

\---

Shortly after Kaydel receives the summons from Commander Holdo, she’s running onto the runway, unable to contain her excitement. They’d been informed that the US was sending a strategic bomber aircraft, but nobody had told her that it would be a legendary XB-70 Valkyrie.

Her first word to Holdo, when she sees the rain-washed aircraft parked on the runway, is: “Valkyrie?!”

“I suppose the US didn’t want to lend us any military aircraft still in service,” Holdo guesses flatly.

“But can this thing actually...fly? I mean…” Kaydel doesn't know much about military aircraft, but she knows enough to doubt that the Valkyrie is still airworthy.

“I thought all XB-70s were either dismantled or trussed up in museums years ago,” Holdo shrugs. “So I’m not sure. But this is what we’ve got to work with.”

“Do we have pilots for this thing?”

Holdo nods to the side; Kaydel follows her line of sight and spots two men, clearly US pilots from their uniforms, standing apart uncertainly from the rest of the Shatterdome crew.

“That’s Tyco Chu and Wedge Antilles. They’ll be flying this mission,” Holdo says, before turning and motioning to the crew members standing by.

“Let’s go. We don’t have much time before the Kaiju reaches the Portuguese base.”

\---

Once they land, Rey and Kylo are directed to an emptied school building that serves as a makeshift base. As they make their way over to the flat, whitewashed structure, Rey, with Rose’s papers clasped to her chest, looks around; they’ve landed somewhere in the outer edge of the famed city of Porto, chosen for its position along the coast as well as its well-stocked provisions.

The Kaiju hasn’t reached it yet—it arrived in the city of Sines minutes ago and has been slowly making its way north towards Lisbon—but the people have been evacuated, and the city, although idyllically beautiful with its colorful, storied architecture and lush greenery, stands ominously silent. Teams of people, engineers and construction workers and military personnel alike of all represented countries, have worked to clear the area surrounding the makeshift base of trees and brush to slow the spread of the Kaiju’s fire, in case the monster draws too close to the city. The sky is clear, and there is no sign of trouble on the southern horizon. Not yet.

_I hate this_ , Rey can’t help thinking to herself as she hands Rose’s plans over to the engineer who’d escorted them, and as she and Kylo hurry into the building.

After being escorted by a guard into the suite of offices where mission control has set up their makeshift command center, Rey and Kylo are introduced to Commander Kiadi Bacara, a tall, slender Portuguese man with warm brown eyes and a contrastingly stern face. After a brief greeting, Bacara, in laborious English, gives them a succinct debrief of the current situation before instructing them to appear at 0500 in the morning to the makeshift runway where they’d deplaned. He also informs them that some of the other Jaeger pilots, ferried along with their Jaegers to Portugal by the US military, are currently staying at a nearby hotel-turned-barracks, and gives them rough directions to the hotel, before issuing them long-range communicators and room passes, and wishing them good luck.

Poe and Finn, too restless for sleep, are pacing in the lobby when Rey and Kylo enter the hotel; they immediately hurry over when they recognize the rumpled newcomers. The four stare at each other as though they haven't seen each other in years.

“Rey,” Finn says, “Kylo. You’re here.”

“They told us you’d come, but we didn’t…” Poe trails off. Rey peers at him for a moment; were there always streaks of gray in his hair? She then glances at Finn, and realizes that both he and Poe have visibly aged. Finn, usually spry and optimistic, if not a bit cautious, looks exhausted and stooped over, his clothes hanging on his frame, chafe marks from the worn-through padding of his helmet marking his jaws; Poe, his personality usually like the three primary colors—bold, bright, unpolluted—looks saggier about the edges than he usually does, and the hoods of his eyes hang lower than they usually do. His smile of greeting is tinged with a restless caginess.

To ask them how they are doing seems foolish, so Rey instead says: “You guys have done great so far.”

Finn shakes his head ruefully. “If only we did better. The Kaiju still made its way across the entire US.”

“The far northern and southern states are still in relatively good shape, for the most part, and it’s largely because you and the others managed to keep the Kaiju from zigzagging too much.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees, “but the central states are unrecognizable. I don’t think they will be inhabitable for a long time.”

“And here we are,” Poe says, a touch bitterly, “to watch the same thing happen in Europe.”

“Why aren’t you guys resting?” Kylo says. “You both look like you need it.”

“We’re beyond tired,” Poe replies flatly. “It’s no use trying to sleep now. All I want to do is finish this and go home.” The exhaustion in his usually unquenchably-spirited attitude is unexpectedly demoralizing.

“Where are the others?” Rey asks.

“Zorii and Jannah were deployed to Lisbon a few hours ago,” Poe replies. “Luke and Leia are out there too, along with some skeleton backup from the Portuguese military. They’re just trying to keep the Kaiju from going too far inland at this point. There are still people in the northeastern parts of Portugal evacuating to Spain.”

“Deployed already?” Rey frowns. “Did they have a chance to sleep?”

“Yeah, on the way over,” Finn scoffs. “They’re all in terrible shape, especially Luke and Leia; they look like they’re dead on their feet.”

“But we’ve been told that they’ll be recalled as soon as we’re deployed tomorrow,” Poe chimes in. “If our plan works, today will be the last jockey they’ll need to run with this Kaiju.”

“ _If_ it works.”

“Yeah, well.” A shrug. “We’ll see, I guess.”

They nod to each other. The sun has almost completely set, and the dim lighting of the deserted hotel lobby only makes Finn and Poe look even more ragged, haunted. As Rey and Kylo step into the elevator, Rey turns and glances once more at Finn and Poe; the sight of the two specter-like Rangers standing in the ridiculously opulent, eerily silent hotel lobby, staring back at her, is so disturbingly depressing that Rey feels the sudden, utterly illogical urge to laugh. The elevator doors slide shut, and she all but slumps against the side of the elevator.

Kylo, however, stands stiffly in the middle of the elevator, staring ahead, his mouth drawn into a taut line.

She waits until the doors have slid open, until they’ve walked silently to their rooms—305 and 306, directly across the carpeted hall from each other—before she turns to him, her mouth open, as though to say something. He pauses in the middle of opening his door and looks at her, waiting.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” she finally says.

“Who?”

“Leia and Luke.”

Kylo’s stare rests on her mouth for a moment, then flickers up to search her eyes. “Let me know if you need anything,” he finally says, before stepping into his room and closing the door quietly behind him.

\---

Rey spends the night tossing and turning on the comfortable, but foreign, mattress, chasing scraps of sleep and staring up at the wood-stucco combination ceiling. At four in the morning, she rolls out of bed, washes up quickly in the bathroom, packs her meager things back up into her bag, and stands outside of her room for a moment, feeling that peculiar ache in her chest and head that always develops when she’s dangerously sleep-deprived, staring at Kylo’s door. Almost as though on cue, Kylo’s door swings open slowly, and he stands there, fully dressed, his steely, slightly puffy eyes indicating how little sleep he got.

They stare at each other for a moment.

“No sleep?” He observes. She shakes her head no.

“Well.” He steps out, closes the door behind him, stands staring down at her for a moment; he reaches up with a hand and gently rests a knuckle against her cheek; he looks at once bereft, determined.

“We know what we have to do,” she mutters.

Kylo cracks a grin. “That’s the spirit.”

\---

“ _Dark Knight_ to LOCCENT, Bacara, and _Blitzkrieg_. Kaiju in sight.”

The _Dark Knight_ ’s comm light blinks as Kylo’s voice crackles through; Holdo glances up from her cup of coffee. It’s been barely an hour since the sky on the southern horizon of Porto had taken on a dull grayish-orange hazy look, indicating the approach of the Kaiju. She examines the _Dark Knight'_ s camera feed; sure enough, far in the south, a wall of fire billows, the dark shape of the Kaiju peeking occasionally through the veil of flame.

“What’s the status of that tranq bomb?” Rey asks.

Holdo peers over Bodhi’s shoulder at his screen. “Still about fifty minutes out. Bacara, I’d suggest they deploy now; you have about thirty minutes until the Kaiju is within burning range of Porto.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bacara says.

“Rock ‘n roll,” Poe whoops.

As they watch the Kaiju rapidly approach, they also begin to see signs of the other two Jaegers; the _Rising Tide'_ s hydrocannon can be seen arching from the ocean, sometimes aimed at the Kaiju, sometimes aimed at the Kaiju’s trail of fire; the _Aegis_ ’s plasma shield glows a telltale silvery-blue, cool and controlled next to the Kaiju’s volatile flames, pressuring the Kaiju close to the shore. The Kaiju lashes out at the _Rising Tide_ whenever it rises too far out of the water, and at the _Aegis_ whenever it draws too close, but otherwise seems content with leaving a trail of charred trees and blackened buildings, seemingly resigned to the constant presence of the Jaegers.

After deploying, the _Dark Knight_ and the _Blitzkrieg_ set a brisk pace to intercept the Kaiju before it can come within burning range of the makeshift base in Porto. _Here we go._ Rey’s heart-pounding apprehension is only stoked by Kylo’s nervous, adrenaline-fueled energy.

“Bacara to _Dark Knight_. You’re both spiking.”

_Deep breaths_. “Yes, sir. Sorry.”

As Rey and Kylo near the Kaiju, they quickly realize that although they’ve seen the Kaiju frequently through camera feeds, there is nothing quite like seeing it up close in person. The monster’s head and shoulders tower easily over the _Dark Knight_ , and the hellish wall of flame, the piercing eyes, the glowing spikes, the dinosaur-like build—everything about it seems to be designed to inspire fear and despair.

“Jesus fuck,” Kylo mutters, before unmuting his mic. “ _Dark Knight_ to _Aegis_ and _Rising Tide_. We’re here with _Blitzkrieg_ to take over for you guys.”

“Copy that. You are a sight for sore eyes,” Jannah’s slightly breathless voice answers.

“Be careful out there,” Luke’s voice chimes in.

“We will.” And with that, the batons exchange hands; as the _Aegis_ and the _Rising Tide_ , their exteriors marred with countless scratches and scorch marks and caked with dust and grime, break and head for Porto, the _Blitzkrieg_ and the _Dark Knight_ move in to engage the Kaiju.

The beast examines the two approaching Jaegers with unblinking red eyes; it doesn’t give any indication of caring that there was a Jaeger switch, and snarls gutturally at the approaching pair.

“Forty minutes until the Valkyrie arrives,” Holdo barks through the comm system. “Forty minutes for you guys to lead the Kaiju out of range.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rey and Kylo reach across the void between their minds simultaneously, brushing against each other. _We can do this_. With a torturous mixture of hope and despair churning in them, they enter the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear oh dear, here we go. The next chapter is going to be a doozy; stay tuned!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit long, so grab yourself a cup of tea and a seat. Also, once again, mind the tags!

“It’s not right,” Leia grouses weakly as Luke struggles to extract himself from his Ranger exo-suit. “How are they going to fight off that Kaiju without any kind of shielding from the heat? They won’t be able to get close enough to do any damage.”

“That’s what the incoming tranq bomb is for,” Luke grumbles, sighing with relief as his cramped fingers finally find the zipper on the back of his neck.

“Yes, but that’s still a while out. That Kaiju could easily finish off the _Dark Knight_ and the _Blitzkrieg_ before they’re even fifteen minutes in.”

“So little faith in our young Rangers,” Luke observes with a cheeky smile as he yanks his legs out of the thick layers of cloth and plating and smoothes down his uniform before turning stiffly to Leia to help her out of her exo-suit.

“You know what I mean,” Leia quips as she removes her helmet. “They’re talented, and they’ve got the requisite energy, but they’re so _young_. And their Jaegers aren’t built to withstand that kind of heat. We need to get back out there, Luke.”

“Once we set foot outside of this Jaeger,” Luke says, yanking the back zipper of Leia’s suit down, “they’re not going to let us back in. I mean, look at us. We’re done.” He gestures at his matted hair, the blood staining his upper lip and jaw and shirt, the expansive sweat- and bloodstains covering the chest and arms of his uniform. “It’s a miracle we’re still alive.”

“Then there must be a reason for it,” Leia says firmly. “We need to be ready to go back out there and help them.”

“I'm just as eager as you are, but I don’t think we’ll be able to sneak back in here.”

“Who said anything about leaving?”

The twins share a look.

“Are you…?” Luke asks.

“Yes.” Leia nods. “Are you okay with this?”

“I suppose,” Luke says slowly, “we both knew it was going to come to this someday.”

“Yes,” Leia agrees quietly.

“Now?”

“No. Not now.” Leia peers out through the sweeping visor of the _Aegis._ “When an...opportune moment arises. Or when it’s clear that they need our help.”

“Commander Bacara to _Aegis._ ” A male voice, smooth as dark chocolate, comes through the comm. “I am the Commander of the Porto base. Are you disembarking? Is everything okay?”

Luke clears his throat before unmuting his mic. “Yes, we’re fine.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“We’re old and decrepit and don’t move as fast as we used to,” Luke snaps.

A pause. “My apologies. Do you need assistance?”

“We’ll be fine. Just need a minute.”

“Copy.”

Luke mutes his mic and slides down onto the ground; Leia, having finished extracting her limbs from her exo-suit, tucks a few stray strands of her unsalvageable coiffure behind her ears before slumping to the ground next to her brother. The leadenness of their limbs, the constant feeling of nausea in the pits of their stomachs, the blurred spots and strange, spindly things that flutter across their vision, the persistent trickle of blood that drips out of their noses—every physical sensation that now weighs heavy on their bodies is a reminder of their radiation poisoning, compounded by their age. It’s truly a miracle that they haven’t collapsed and died yet.

“I’m not sure how much time that bought us,” Luke admits.

“It’s all right.” Leia reaches over with an effort and pats his hand, smiling. “Next time they nag us, I’ll take care of them.”

\---

“The Valkyrie is thirty minutes out,” Holdo announces.

“It’s only been ten minutes?” Rey exclaims, already sweating and out of breath. The Kaiju swings its head from the _Blitzkrieg_ to the _Dark Knight_ , its jaw hanging wide open, a blast of blue fire shooting out from the depths of its throat. Rey and Kylo barely maneuver their Jaeger out of the way in time, and utilize the seconds-long window to duck into position and fire a nonnuclear blast from their upgraded arsenal. The blast scintillates over the Kaiju’s craggy exoskeletal armor, barely causing it to stumble.

Rey had scrolled through the list of weapons added as part of the post-arrival upgrade of the _Dark Knight_ , and found, to her distress, that most of the weapons added would probably do little more than annoy the Kaiju. Only two of the additions—the actual nuclear weapons—are potentially powerful enough to bring the Kaiju down, but in order for them to deploy the nukes without killing Portuguese civilians or occupants of the impromptu base in Porto, they need to draw the Kaiju at least ninety-five klicks to the east, towards the just-evacuated Vila Real, before the Valkyrie arrives… 

She glances at their heading, which shows that they’re only about thirty klicks out from Porto, and is unable to suppress an agitated sigh.

“It’s okay,” Kylo says. “We’re doing fine on time.”

“We have no margin of error,” Rey retorts. “It’s not exactly an ideal situation.”

“LOCCENT to _Dark Knight_ and _Blitzkrieg._ ” Rey realizes, with a jolt of surprise, that the voice coming through the comm system is Kaydel’s.

“Kaydel?”

“Yeah, hey, Rey. Um, listen. There’s a potential problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Kaiju’s current external temperature… It might be too high for the tranq bomb to make it to the ground undamaged.”

“Are you saying we have to abort the tranq bomb idea?”

“No. It could still work. We just need to figure out a way to get the Kaiju to lower its external temperature.”

“How would we do that?” Kylo demands.

“Last time the Kaiju’s temperature lowered, it was because it was being bombarded by the _Rising Tide_ and the _Blitzkrieg_ , right?”

“Right,” Finn says, “but it was feigning that time.”

“Perhaps because the attacks weren’t strong enough to actually weaken it,” Kaydel says. “But now that the _Blitzkrieg_ has been recharged and the _Dark Knight_ has had its arsenal upgraded, I think you guys have a better shot. And it only needs to be about 20 C cooler for the tranq bomb to make it through safely.”

Rey scrolls through the _Dark Knight_ s arsenal again as Kylo fires his plasmacaster at the Kaiju’s exposed side, maneuvering the _Dark Knight_ out of the way of the Kaiju’s rapidly-moving wall of flame. 

“I think we can manage it,” Rey announces. “What do you think, _Blitzkrieg_?” 

She’s answered with a loud whoop from Poe, and a grumble from Finn.

\---

In the makeshift outdoor hangar in Porto, Luke and Leia, finally zipped back up in their exo-suits (with much grumbling) and listening silently to the chatter over the comm system, look at each other.

“Is this the ‘opportune moment’ you were waiting for?” Luke asks pointedly.

Leia grins silently; she heaves herself slowly to her feet and moves to stand under the pilot rig, affixing the electrodes as she moves. With a sigh, Luke heaves himself to his feet as well and helps Leia strap into the Jaeger. 

At that moment, Commander Bacara’s voice crackles over the comm system of the _Aegis_ once again.

“Bacara to _Aegis._ I thought last time I checked in, you guys said you would be disembarking any minute?”

“Yes, Commander, that’s correct,” Luke replies, trying to keep his voice even as he struggles with the clasps on Leia’s rig, before rushing to his own rig, snatching his helmet up from the ground.

Bacara pauses for a long moment. “Are you sure everything is all right up there?”

“Yep, everything is...well, no, I mean, we are just…” Luke finds that he is unable to talk and strap himself in at the same time.

“We just finished getting out of our exo-suits,” Leia supplies. Luke fumbles a bit more with his straps, and nods to Leia.

“Are you sure you don’t need a medical team? Or at least a crew to help—”

“No, I—” Leia begins powering up the _Aegis_. “I think we’re good.”

There’s another long, confused pause, during which Luke furiously goes through his part of the power-up procedures.

“ _Aegis,_ uh…” Bacara begins uncertainly. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but it looks like you’re powering up.”

“Oh!” Leia gasps in deplorable mock-surprise. “I’m not sure how that could be happening. We’re—we’ve only just gotten out of our suits, and—” She motions for Luke to hurry, to which Luke furiously mouths, _I am_!

“We’re just, you know, so old now. And this jockey has been so long, and—”—she watches with desperate impatience as Luke initiates the drift—“—we’re just so, _so_ old, and—”

“ _A_ _egis_?”

Luke mutes the mic. “We’re ready to go,” he says to Leia.

“Thank God,” Leia mutters.

The _Aegis_ roars into action. Ignoring Bacara’s confused shouting, the two begin striding in tandem, heading towards the Kaiju’s location.

They’ve barely made it out of Porto when Holdo’s voice cuts into the comm system. “LOCCENT to _Aegis_.”

“Commander,” Luke grunts in acknowledgment.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?”

“Bacara refused to let us continue jockeying.”

“Because _I_ advised him to call you back in. You’re both finished.”

“Look,” Leia says in her diplomat’s voice. “If the _Blitzkrieg_ and the _Dark Knight_ and this Valkyrie plane with the tranq bomb are truly enough to down the Kaiju, then we’re all good, right? Luke and I will have gone out to Vila Real for no reason. No harm done. But if it’s not enough, they’re—”

Leia breaks off for a moment; Luke feels her presence in the drift quaver.

“Leia?” Han’s voice. Luke waits as Leia gathers her strength; it’s a slow process, as though she’s picking marbles off the ground. Her dizziness and nausea are almost infectious through the drift.

“Nerf-herder,” Leia mumbles distantly. Han’s chuckle is exhausted, relieved. 

“Are you all right?” He asks.

Leia sighs. “Yeah,” she answers tiredly. “Just needed a second there. But—as I was saying—if everything they throw at the Kaiju isn’t enough, then we need to be there, at least to shield the other Jaegers from Kaiju’s retaliation.”

“The _Dark Knight_ has two nukes and a new collection of artillery toys,” Holdo says flatly.

“If a nuke isn’t enough to down the Kaiju, what makes you think a second one will?”

Holdo is silent. “Your luck isn’t going to last,” she finally says.

“Why do you think we said such heartfelt goodbyes?” Leia scoffs. “Luke and I know the chances of us returning alive; we know how lucky we’ve been. But we need to preserve the _Dark Knight_ and the _Blitzkrieg_ , and we definitely need their Rangers. You have to admit, it makes sense.”

“Sweetheart,” Han says softly. Normally it’s a teasing nickname, one meant to needle. Leia rests her hand against the speaker of the comm.

“I love you,” she tells him; he remains silent.

“He’s left the room,” Holdo says after a moment.

“That’s all right.”

“Look,” Holdo says with a sigh, “you’re right. What you’re doing does make sense. But at this point there is no easy way forward. I can’t stop you from doing whatever you’re going to do, but please, don’t be too cavalier with your lives.”

“Will do.”

\---

“Valkyrie is ten minutes out,” Holdo announces. 

“Good,” Kylo says, his breath coming out in pants. “We’re down to our two nukes and a handful of nonnuclears. Our plasmacasters are shot.” Rey’s clip is empty, and the Kaiju had lunged for them particularly quickly when they’d thought it was preoccupied with fending off the _Blitzkrieg_ s attacks, resulting in the loss of Kylo’s plasmacaster.

Even though this is technically only their second jockey together, Rey feels as if the closeness between Kylo and herself has grown exponentially since their first jockey. There’s something thrilling and yet comforting in the knowledge that, when she has to venture out in a Jaeger, she’s doing so with her copilot—someone who knows her inside and out, in some ways even better than she knows herself; someone with whom no formalities are needed, no masks are worn, no walls are necessary. Even now, as they put their lives on the line in an unfamiliar country facing off against the first-ever Category 5 Kaiju, and even though the hours leading up to their deployment were brimming with anxiety and unease, she feels...at peace. In the midst of a hurricane of violence and uncertainty, she feels centered, immovable. Just like when they first sparred.

Kylo glances at her for a moment; she returns the glance. It’s just a moment, but it’s enough.

“ _Dark Knight_ to _Blitzkrieg,_ ” Rey speaks into her mic. “We’ve reached ninety klicks. What do you think about trying a blitzkrieg technique?”

Poe laughs, a little too loudly, as the _Blitzkrieg_ dodges another blast of blue fire. “Thought you’d never ask! We’re on our last handful of short-rangers; we probably only have enough for one go.”

“Half-pincer maneuver?” Kylo suggests.

“You got it,” Finn replies. 

The two Jaegers reposition themselves around the Kaiju, falling back; the Kaiju seems to sense a change and adjusts its stance accordingly, roaring a challenge. The _Blitzkrieg_ unleashes its final round of firepower; as soon as the _Blitzkrieg_ ’s artillery halts, while the Kaiju is reeling from the sudden onslaught, the _Dark Knight_ locks onto the Kaiju and launches a round of nonnuclears, further disorienting the Kaiju, before arming one of its two nuclear ballistic missiles. 

“Deploying,” Rey shouts as she launches the armed missile. 

The two Jaegers brace for impact.

\---

“Status,” Bacara demands.

“I...I’m not sure,” Rey says. “We can’t see much yet. Heat readings suggest that the Kaiju is still alive, but I’m not sure _how_ alive…”

Kylo glances at Rey. “Should we go in?”

“I can’t detect much from out here,” Rey says. “I say we go in for a look.”

“ _Dark Knight_ moving in to assess.” As the _Blitzkrieg_ hangs back, having no weapons left to defend itself with, the _Dark Knight_ takes cautious steps toward the location of the Kaiju.

“Definitely still alive,” Rey says. “I’m picking up life signs… Also reading an external temperature of about 800 Celsius.”

“Perfect,” Kaydel chimes in. “That’s more than low enough for the tranq to make it through.”

“Where is the Valkyrie?” Finn asks.

“Just about on your position,” Holdo replies.

“The Kaiju’s getting back up,” Poe says in a warning tone. All eyes fly to the Kaiju; through the settling dust, Rey can make out the dull red glow of the spikes along the Kaiju’s spine, and then—

“I see its eyes,” Kylo mutters.

“Temperature’s also climbing,” Rey observes. “It’s at 900.”

“Holdo to Valkyrie. Drop at will.”

An unfamiliar male voice, lightly accented, responds. “Deploying now…” 

“All Jaegers, you should probably fall back and seal all openings,” Kaydel cautions; the _Dark Knight_ and the _Blitzkrieg_ immediately scramble backward.

“How far is the tranq going to spread?” Kylo demands.

“Uh…” Kaydel falters. “Well, the base at Porto should definitely be safe.”

“...What is that supposed to mean?!”

“Armitage and I didn’t really model how far the gas could travel… We just focused on designing something that would be potent enough to take down the Kaiju.”

“Good God, Kaydel,” Finn splutters.

“Bomb is 100 meters from the ground,” the unfamiliar Valkyrie pilot’s voice pipes up. “Fifty meters.”

Then, several things happen at the same time: the _Blitzkrieg_ and the _Dark Knight_ turn and run at full speed; the _Aegis_ appears on the edge of Kylo’s radar; the Kaiju rises to its full hulking height, its spikes rapidly brightening; Rey’s temperature alarm wails aggressively; and something hits the ground right in front of the Kaiju, catching it unawares, and explodes into a cloud of pale gray gas. 

“Keep running!” Kaydel cries. “Don’t stop!”

The _Aegis_ stops, observes the situation for a moment, and turns around and runs back in the direction it came from.

“Fuck,” Leia mutters. “Today is just pure chaos.”

\---

“I think you guys are good,” Kaydel says after the Jaegers slow down. “Could you turn around so that I can see what’s going on?”

The _Dark Knight_ turns and cautiously retraces its steps back towards the Kaiju. Kylo keeps his eyes on the radar and through the _Dark Knight_ ’s visor; Rey keeps her eyes glued to the sensors. Eventually, they see the motionless, mountain-like body of the Kaiju, and draw closer slowly. 

“I’m reading life signs,” Rey says. “But...I’m not reading any abnormally high sources of heat.” She turns to stare, wide-eyed, at Kylo. “I think it worked.”

“Don’t waste a moment,” Bacara barks. “Go back in and finish the job.”

“Kaiju’s moving,” Luke warns. Rey and Kylo look back up quickly, and sure enough, the mountainous body is stirring. As they watch, the Kaiju’s eyes snap open, and, with labored grunts, it begins pushing itself back to its feet. 

“Ready,” Bacara shouts, and the _Dark Knight_ immediately arms one of its remaining nonnuclears. However, as the Kaiju stands back up, it quickly becomes clear that the tranq, while failing to knock the Kaiju out cold, did the next best thing. The beast sways slightly to the side, and its eyes, blinking wildly, don’t seem to register the Jaegers at first. Its grunts are low, startled, disoriented; it swings it head from side to side, as though listening for something. The spikes along its back have lost all signs of inner glow, and are the same indeterminate gray as the rest of its body; Rey glances at her console and sees that its temperature reading is low and stable.

“I think we can move in and take it down without the other nuke,” Rey shouts. 

Poe and Finn practically howl in agreement; the two Jaegers barrel headlong towards the Kaiju.

“Wait!” Luke shouts, to no avail; with grim, almost savage determination, the two other Jaegers rush in and grapple with the larger Kaiju, harassing it from all directions. The _Blitzkrieg_ , with no weapons remaining, balls its hands into fists and begins pummeling the Kaiju in the areas where the nuke tore through its exoskeletal armor, and the _Dark Knight_ dips into its final nonnuclears. 

And finally, as the Portuguese and Shatterdome bases look on, the Kaiju begins to falter. With an unconsciously united effort, Rey and Kylo shut out the sounds of whooping and cheering and shouting blaring through the comms, and focus on aiming their remaining artillery rounds at the Kaiju’s vulnerable spots. With an enraged roar, the Kaiju begins thrashing wildly, swinging its short arms and its tail blindly, its jaw held menacingly ajar.

“ _Blitzkrieg,_ look out—” But it’s too late; the _Blitzkrieg,_ having drawn close to the Kaiju, isn’t able to get out of the way fast enough, and the Kaiju’s thrashing tail catches the _Blitzkrieg_ right across its back, knocking it to the ground. The _Dark Knight_ lays down cover fire while the _Blitzkrieg_ scrambles awkwardly back to its feet, and the Kaiju turns in the direction of the artillery rounds, bearing down on the _Dark Knight_. With another deft swing of its tail, the Kaiju knocks the _Dark Knight_ ’s feet from underneath it. Rey and Kylo grunt in pain as the _Dark Knight_ slams into the ground.

“ _Dark Knight,_ get up!” Holdo barks, but as the _Dark Knight_ struggles to get its feet back under itself, the Kaiju snatches it up, its front claws digging into the _Dark Knight'_ s metal shell with painful screeching sounds. Rey feels a spike of déjà vu , followed by pure panic, and isn’t sure if it’s Kylo’s or her own. With another infuriated roar, the Kaiju begins clawing blindly at the _Dark Knight,_ digging its claws into every crack it can find, tearing ragged holes into the _Dark Knight_ ’s exterior.

As Rey’s and Kylo’s minds reel, the Kaiju, having shredded the metal exterior of the _Dark Knight_ ’s abdomen, grabs the Jaeger by the ankles and swings with surprising strength. Before Rey and Kylo can register what’s going on, the Kaiju slams them into the approaching _Blitzkrieg_ , sending the _Blitzkrieg_ flying through the air. With a triumphant shriek, the Kaiju tosses the battered _Dark Knight_ to the ground like a discarded toy; Rey and Kylo lay stunned.

“ _Aegis_ to _Dark Knight,_ ” Leia’s panicked voice shouts. “The Kaiju’s moving back in for more. Get up!”

With a groan, Rey squeezes her eyes closed for a moment and tries to fight her spinning head; she can feel Kylo’s pain through the drift. She prods at him through their mental connection; his response is snappish, but they’re able to roll out of the way just in time to avoid the slam of the Kaiju’s tail.

“Nuke,” Kylo grunts; Rey, already ahead of him, arms their last remaining nuke as they struggle back to their feet. But the Kaiju, as though able to sense what their plan is, grabs Rey’s arm and forces it to the side, aiming it at the still-struggling _Blitzkrieg_.

“I can’t move my arm,” Rey shouts. Kylo shoots another round of nonnuclears at the Kaiju close-range; the Kaiju roars with pain, but its grip on Rey’s arm doesn’t weaken. It stares directly through the _Dark Knight_ ’s visor, and Rey wonders for a wild moment whether the Kaiju can see them through the tinted glass.

“That was our last round of nonnuclears,” Kylo shouts.

“We’re coming!” Poe yells frantically. The Kaiju sweeps its tail at the _Blitzkrieg_ , but the _Blitzkrieg_ leaps out of the way and lands on the Kaiju, wrapping its arms around the Kaiju’s face. The monster bellows with rage and releases the _Dark Knight_ ’s arm; with a gut-wrenching metallic shriek, it rips the _Blitzkrieg_ ’s arms clean off. Poe and Finn scream with pain; Holdo shouts something; the Kaiju grabs the _Blitzkrieg_ by the abdomen and, with a mighty swing, sends the Jaeger flying.

“Oh my god!” Someone screams. The _Blitzkrieg_ hits the ground with a sickening thud, bouncing once, before sliding to a stop; Bacara hails the _Blitzkrieg_ frantically, but the _Blitzkrieg_ lies still, silent.

The Kaiju doesn’t waste a moment; before the _Blitzkrieg_ comes to a stop, the Kaiju is already charging the _Dark Knight_ at full speed. Rey glimpses the spikes on the Kaiju’s back now glowing a faint red, and, with sinking hearts, she and Kylo brace themselves for another thrashing—but just before the Kaiju can reach them, there’s a sharp, shimmering sound, and a telltale bright-blue flash of plasma. The Kaiju stops in its tracks, its limbs bound tightly against its body, its tail immobilized by a cylindrical wall of undulating light.

Rey and Kylo look to their right, astonished, and see the _Aegis_ standing off to the side, having approached unnoticed by the Kaiju, its plasma shields activated.

In the _Aegis_ ’s pilot chamber, Luke and Leia regard each other for a moment, fresh blood flowing from their noses and, for the first time, their ears as well, trickling over the dried blood crusted on their necks and shirts; their eyes dim even as they look at each other; they feel each other’s presences in the drift fading steadily. They turn back to the Kaiju and the _Dark Knight_ with renewed determination.

“ _Dark Knight_ , your nuke. Now,” Luke barks. Pain and nausea shoot through him as the Kaiju thrashes against the plasma shield, its exposed head writhing wildly, its jaw wide open like a crocodile’s. With his rapidly-dimming vision, Luke watches as the _Dark Knight_ , without hesitation, shifts into a bracing stance, aims its last remaining missile at the Kaiju’s head, and fires.

\---

“Still reading life signs,” Rey says weakly after she and Kylo struggle back to their feet. “But very faint.”

Beside them, the _Aegis_ lies motionless; slightly farther off, the _Blitzkrieg_ finally stirs. The dust and debris in the air from the second nuclear strike swirl, patternless, in the air. The Kaiju lies a ways off, most of its exoskeletal armor crumbled away, exposing gray flesh; trickles of Kaiju blue run down its sides.

Holdo leans into the mic. “Finish the job,” she says grimly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

With unspoken simultaneity, Rey and Kylo deploy their last remaining weapon—the chain sword—and approach the Kaiju. While the exoskeletal armor on the Kaiju’s back and legs have mostly crumbled away, the armor on the Kaiju’s more vulnerable areas—its chest, stomach, and head—remain mostly intact, except for—

“Under its chin,” Finn’s voice crackles weakly through the comm.

The _Dark Knight_ stands over the Kaiju for a moment; the monster’s eyes flash open, staring blindly upward at the silhouette of the Jaeger. Rey and Kylo simultaneously raise their hands, holding the sword at the ready; and, with a decisive thrust, they drive the sword through the spot of tender, exposed skin under the Kaiju’s chin where the _Blitzkrieg_ had managed to dislodge a scale in Colorado. There’s a sick squelch of liquid as Kaiju blue bursts up from the wound, splattering the _Dark Knight'_ s helmet and ruined chest. The monster opens its mouth, but no sound comes out. 

Rey and Kylo pull the sword out and, with another savage burst, begin to attack the Kaiju’s neck, hacking with cold, blind savagery. Rey feels Kylo’s indiscriminate rage, his dark satisfaction, his grim, focused viciousness; she turns her face to it, allowing it to wash over her and consume her. Together, deaf to all else, they rain merciless blows down on the Kaiju. 

With every swing of the sword, more Kaiju blue sloshes thickly through the air, more of the Kaiju’s armor cracks away, and more of the sword itself chips away; flecks of metal and stone-like armor slingshot through the air, clanging dully against the ground and the _Dark Knight_. At some point, Rey and Kylo feel the edge of the sword come in contact with bone; a few blows later, the bone snaps and gives way.

Finally, there’s one last sickening squelch, one last thrust with the ruined stub of the sword, and the Kaiju’s head, now completely severed from its body, rolls to the side. Kaiju blue bleeds over the land, hissing ominously as it makes contact with surrounding plant life. The body twitches once, and is still.

The _Dark Knight_ staggers back; Rey and Kylo lose their balance, and they land heavily on their back, staring straight up at the sky.

_Did we…?_

_Yes._

“... _Knight_? Do you read? LOCCENT to _Dark Knight_.” Bodhi’s frantic voice slowly filters into their consciousness. Rey reaches out blindly and unmutes her mic.

“ _Dark Knight_ to LOCCENT. We’re okay, but…” She tries to shift around in her rig, and finds that, now that she’s lying prone, her body is refusing to budge. Around her, the Jaegerrumbles, creaks, settles; she’s not sure it will stand back up.

“We may need an extraction,” she says numbly. Beside her, she can hear Kylo’s labored breathing. Her mind sizzles, exhausted from the strain of the jockey; every nerve in her body feels fizzled out. Her tongue moves slowly and thickly in her mouth.

“Bacara to LOCCENT. We’ll send a team immediately.”

“Thank you,” Holdo replies. “ _Dark Knight_ , _Blitzkrieg_ , can either of you make contact with the _Aegis_? We’ve been hailing Leia and Luke since it went down, but we aren’t getting any response.”

Rey reaches with trembling fingers to open a private line with the _Aegis_ . “ _Dark Knight_ to _Aegis_. Do you...do you copy?”

Silence. Rey turns her head with a massive effort to look at Kylo, who’s already staring at her with empty eyes.

“Luke? Leia?” She tries again. Still no answer.

“We’re not getting anything. We can try to get into their pilot chamber.” Rey sucks in a deep breath and marshalls her body, raising her arms to begin detaching herself from her rig. Kylo watches her for a long moment, before following suit with robotic motions. They right themselves with an effort in the tilted chamber, bracing themselves against the wall as they make for the exit of the _Dark Knight_ ’s helmet.

\---

“Luke?” Rey steps timidly into the darkened pilot chamber of the _Aegis_. Her footsteps scuffle against the metal and carbon fiber like the footsteps of a mouse; the chamber is silent as a tomb.

“Leia?” She tries. The _Aegis_ 's comm crackles, and Holdo’s voice filters through, faint and fragmented. “LOCCENT to _Aegis_. Please respond.”

Rey and Kylo step around the rigs slowly. On the ground in front of the pilot rigs, leaning against the _Aegis'_ s visor, slumps Luke, his head bowed, his gray hair matted and disheveled. In his arms lies Leia, her mouth blurred by blood, her eyes dim and unmoving. Rey swallows thickly at the sight of her mentor motionless on the floor, the blood stains on his uniform. Kylo darts forward.

“Luke?” He says, his voice low, urgent. He kneels and tilts the older man’s face up; Luke’s eyes are closed, his mouth ajar. The hair around his ears and the skin of his jaw are also stained with blood. Kylo presses a finger to Luke’s neck for a moment, and glances up at Rey, his eyes wide; her heart rises in her throat.

“Leia,” Rey says, now rushing forward as well. She shoves the ruined exo-suits and blood-stained helmets out of the way and kneels beside the siblings, holding Luke upright as Kylo gently pries his mother from his uncle’s arms.

“Leia?” Kylo echoes softly, his large, powerful hands fluttering uselessly around his mother’s motionless face, her ruined hair.

“Mom?” He tries, now cupping his mother’s face gently, turning her to face him. Her lifeless eyes skim past his face, staring at some fixed point in the distance; no smile of recognition curves her mouth; no mischievous light flickers in her eyes. Something shatters in Kylo, and Rey watches as he gathers up his mother’s body in his arms, hiding his face in her hair. He rocks gently, soundlessly, his shoulders drawn taut.

Rey lays Luke gently on the ground, afraid to look into his face and see the lifelessness there. She gets to her feet awkwardly like an automaton, makes her way over to Luke’s console, unmutes his mic.

“Rey to LOCCENT,” she says, and tears begin to form in her eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poor dears don't get much of a break, I'm afraid...
> 
> Also, a big thank you to everyone who has been reading/kudoing/commenting! I'm still fairly new to AO3 (I still _feel_ new, anyway) but I've been pleasantly surprised by how kind, supportive, and constructive everyone has been! Please know that I am grateful :)

“Commander?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the _Brawler_. Refurbishment’s finished, ma’am.”

“I see. Thank you, Tico.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to rechristen the _Brawler_.”

“...Oh. Okay. What name?”

“...”

“Ma’am?”

“The _Reckoning_.”

“The _Reckoning_?”

“Yes. I think that will do.”

\---

With Jyn and Cassian, there are no bodies to retrieve, no remains to relinquish to their families; only contorted, ruined metal and scorched plastic at the bottom of the significantly shallower Grand Lake. 

Luke and Leia, on the other hand, are carefully wrapped up and transported back to the Shatterdome. In death, their bodies seem infinitely more fragile and shriveled up, and the sight of them lying motionless at the viewing is almost more than Rey can handle. She and Kylo grip each other’s hands with grim silence as they pass in front of the simple beds, glancing first at Luke’s pale, mask-like face, tense and disapproving even in death, meticulously cleansed of all grime and blood, and then at Leia’s equally pale and clean, but somehow more peaceful face, her makeup clumsily applied and hair lovingly arranged by Han. The twins lie in freshly-laundered uniforms, their hands folded over their stomachs, their lower bodies covered in yards of white silk, their heads wreathed in the most presentable white bouquets that Armitage could get his hands on. Beside their coffins stand two flimsy easel-like stands displaying too-large photos of Jyn and Cassian, their eyes wide and bright, their smiles unsure. The room is hushed, and people avoid each other’s gazes, as though afraid to betray their own inward hurt.

The ceremony is numbing and forgettable to Rey; various staff from the Shatterdome and the UN rise to say a few words, to recount stories. Jyn’s father, Galen Erso, stands briefly, his normally straight posture bent with heartbreak and grief, Jyn’s folded uniform clutched in his hands; he’s only able to mutter the words “My stardust.” Commander Holdo and Han, looking especially dour and haggard in their black suits, and neither of whom have ever cared much for flowery words and lingering send-offs, are reluctant to share their grief; their speeches wind up being short, tense, awkward. 

There’s a short drive to the crematorium, and when the twins next emerge, they’ve been reduced to ashes and placed in garishly ostentatious urns. The motley group of mourners looks on as Holdo and Han open the urns and toss the ash into the Pacific Ocean; the ash, pale and fine, slants through the air, dancing on and sifting through the currents of the ocean wind before disappearing into the dark water. Luke hadn’t left a will, but Leia, always practical in a sort of morbid way, had left an extremely detailed will, and had specifically wished to be cremated and to have her remains scattered in the ocean, so as to not take up precious real estate; and it was decided that the twins should be “buried” together.

But it seems cruel, somehow, Rey reflects as she watches Kylo’s and Han’s faces. It seems cruel to die and to not leave something of yourself for the people who remain.

As the crowd disperses, bereft and restless and downcast, breaking off into groups and pairs, Rey lingers with Kylo; a short distance away, Galen Erso, cradling his daughter’s uniform, sits at the edge of the pier, his graying head bowed low.

“It must be terrible to bury your own child,” Rey mutters as she watches the aggrieved father.

“Must be,” Kylo agrees emptily.

“Maybe we should talk to him,” Rey falters.

“Maybe.”

“C’mon. You don’t have to say anything.”

“I…” Kylo’s eyes are glazed, tortured; he hasn’t quite returned from Portugal yet. “I’ll stay here for a moment.”

Rey looks into his eyes. “All right. But don’t go anywhere.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t. I’ll be right here.”

Rey turns and approaches Galen slowly, taking one step after another down the pier. 

“Mr. Erso?”

Galen turns his head robotically. “Rey,” he says in greeting; his eyes are dry, his voice empty. Below them, the waves crash raucously, knocking against each other and against the wooden legs of the pier; around them, the city and the ocean churn on, relentless and unsympathetic.

“She was always so brave and mature,” Rey says hesitantly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Rey.”

“Sir, is there...anything you need?”

Galen’s chuckle is chilling. “I think you’ll find, Rey, that as you get older, the things you need become more and more unattainable.”

Rey glances back at Kylo to make sure that he’s still where she left him (which he is) before lowering herself gracelessly next to Galen. She crosses her legs and glances from the corner of her eye at him, and wonders what exactly a mourning father would need most in a time like this.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” She finally says.

“What is it?”

“Why do you call Jyn ‘Stardust’? Cassian used to tease her about it all the time, but she never bothered to justify it to him.”

Galen cracks a smile then, significantly less chilling than the one he’d offered her moments ago. 

“She wouldn’t,” he says, with a touch of pride. “I’m an astronautical engineer, as you probably know, and space has always been my source of inspiration. But when Jyn came along, there was something about having a child and looking into her little face and loving her that changed me in a way my work never could.”

His voice has gone soft, almost too soft to be heard over the water; and the spaces between his words are long and lingering, as though he’s drawing out a goodbye. “We are all made up of particles and matter that were once the stuff of stars, but she was my own little star. She brought joy to my life in a way that my work never could. She will always be the defining miracle in my life.”

Rey looks out over the ocean as Galen speaks, keeping her eyes averted as his voice breaks near the end, struggling with the bitter jab of envy that needles her as she listens to a father speak lovingly of his daughter. Luke was the closest thing she ever had to a father, but he never even pretended to have the emotional capacity to love her as a daughter. And though she doesn’t resent him for it, she has to press her lips together and will herself not to cry.

“Jyn was lucky,” Rey finally says, after a long moment, “to have a father like you.”

“I was always the lucky one,” Galen says quietly.

Too many emotions, all of them painful and ugly, all of them impossible to face now. Rey shoves everything out of her mind and waits until her eyes are clear again. 

“So,” she says presently, “what do you plan on doing now?”

“I’m not sure,” he says honestly. “It seems impossible to go back to my life now, back to work… But that is probably what I will do.”

“It will be hard for all of us.”

Galen makes an indeterminate sound; his expression is resigned, defeated.

“Will you...will you be all right?” Rey asks timidly, knowing that it’s an impossibly stupid question. But Galen turns to smile kindly at her. 

“I’m not sure. Perhaps one day,” he says honestly. “Thank you, Rey.”

“Safe trip home,” she mutters, before getting back up and retreating to Kylo. She throws another glance over her shoulder at Galen, who sits alone with his grief and his goodbyes and the ocean, before taking Kylo’s hand and silently heading back to the Shatterdome.

\---

“Commander Holdo told me to thank you for the flowers,” Kaydel says as they walk to where his car is waiting.

“No, she didn’t,” Armitage observes coolly. His immaculately-pressed black silk suit and tie, liquid-black sunglasses now tucked neatly into the breast pocket of his unbuttoned suit jacket, and—of course—his gold-plated black shoes, with every scuff mark buffed away and polished down, had made him stand out like some sort of posh, goth peacock among the sleep-deprived, slightly scruffy mourners. But for all the ostentation and aloofness, the flowers he’d managed to procure for the funeral were truly lovely, and the expression of somber thoughtfulness that he’d worn throughout the ceremony was genuine.

“No,” Kaydel agrees, after a pause. “But she would have, if she wasn’t so distracted.”

“It’s all right,” Armitage says, shrugging. “I was happy to do it. Consider it a favor to Han, and to you.”

“Me?” Kaydel replies, surprised.

“You’ve spoken often of how Leia made you feel welcomed at the Shatterdome, and believed as a scientist,” Armitage explains. “I guess throwing money at her funeral is the way I ended up thanking her for it.”

“She was like that with everyone,” Kaydel mutters, smiling distantly. “She was one of those people who couldn’t bear to see someone left out or spoken down to.”

“Hm. Much too good for Han,” Armitage deadpans; Kaydel can’t help but laugh, despite the heaviness of the day. They reach his car, where his driver leans against the driver’s door, idly smoking a cigarette.

“So,” Armitage says as he rounds the car to the passenger’s side, and as the driver puts out his cigarette and slips wordlessly into the car, “what now?”

“Now?” Kaydel parrots as she follows him, looking down at her hands. “We...prepare for the next one, I suppose. But with no way of knowing what it’s going to be like...”

“Yeah,” Armitage says quietly, fingering the hem of his black gloves, before eyeing her thoughtfully.

“Well, I think we made a rather good team over the past few days, wouldn’t you say?” He says, and something like a smile flickers over his face.

“Mhm,” Kaydel mumbles, smiling and looking away bashfully.

“So you’ll let me know if you need any help with any research or development? Supplies? Anything?” He presses.

“Yes,” she says, nodding profusely. “Yes, of course. I will.”

“Good. I’ll be seeing you, then,” he says, peering into her face. She nods, and watches as he slips his ridiculous sunglasses onto his nose and folds himself gracefully into the car, and as the car pulls soundlessly out of the lot, towards the city.

\---

A mindless, detached bustle of activity fills the following days. With so many Jaegers jockeyed beyond their usual capacity, Rose’s job becomes nearly impossible, even with the financial and material backing of the UN. The remaining Rangers are subjected to a grueling training schedule that leaves them almost no time to themselves, to rest, to grieve. People go about their duties like wind-up toys, ignoring the inevitable shadow of the next Kaiju hovering on the horizon. The atmosphere of the Shatterdome is surreal, almost nightmarish.

Rey finds Zorii and Jannah one day in the hangar, watching the repair of the _Rising Tide_ during one of their rare breaks. The two girls look up and nod silent greetings to Rey as she plops down next to them on the deck.

“How are you and Kylo doing?” Jannah asks.

“I don’t know,” Rey says truthfully. “We haven’t really talked about it yet.” 

In the mornings, Rey has been avoiding the memorium, cutting instead through the dark hallways to Kylo’s room; they’ve developed an unspoken new habit of taking longer, quiet breakfasts in the canteen, avoiding eye contact with everyone else, and resolutely turning their feet towards the training wing and away from the stairs leading down to the memorium afterward. Kylo still hasn’t spoken to her about Leia’s passing; perhaps there is no need, given the fact that they spend hours in the practice drift almost every day, but Rey isn’t always sure what to make of the dark hurricane of tangled emotions that now lingers in the drift, hanging overhead and casting a shadow on all of their thoughts and memories.

“I know that with drift, talking does not seem necessary,” Zorii says slowly. “But it will be better for you to talk about it.”

“You’re right,” Rey says, “of course. I just… I haven’t worked up the nerve yet.”

“Normally, these things should not be rushed,” Jannah says ruefully. “But…”

“Yeah.” 

Even with the death of four Rangers, the irretrievable loss of the _Phantom_ , and the retirement of the _Aegis_ (or perhaps precisely because of these things), the Shatterdome cannot justify any loss of time in preparation for the next Kaiju event, and the pressure for the remaining Rangers to be ready for the physical and emotional strain of the next inevitable conflict is palpable. 

“Have you heard about Commander Holdo?” Jannah ventures.

Rey frowns. “I haven’t seen her since the funeral.”

“They say she spends all day and night staring out towards the breach,” Zorii says. “They say she has lost her mind.”

“She’s under an insane amount of pressure, and she’s just buried two of her oldest friends,” Rey protests.

“But if she does not dispel those rumors and take more leadership in the preparations for the next Kaiju event,” Jannah presses, “the UN will consider removing her and putting someone else in charge.”

“Bringing in someone new at a time like this… Is dangerous,” Zorii warns, eyes wide. “The last thing we need right now is big change, especially in leadership.” Zorii has a point; replacing Shatterdome leadership at a time like this could easily harm morale and productivity. 

“Horrible times,” Jannah mutters; all three girls stare out towards the Rising Tide, unable to find the right words. 

“You’ll let Kylo and me know if you need anything?” Rey asks, unsure of what else to say. They smile at each other—the defeated smiles of people still trying to soldier on.

\---

She finds Kylo sitting in the darkness of his room, hunched forward in his chair, watching the news intently.

“...of the remains were removed only an hour or so ago. The combination of nuclear detonations and Kaiju blue have rendered this area unlivable; experts say it could be up to ten years before Vila Real is inhabitable. Some maintain that the Jaegers used more nuclear power than should have been authorized or necessary, while others express doubt that anything less would have defeated the Kaiju. I’m here with—”

Rey leans over and pauses the live news feed on Kylo’s phone.

“Maybe they’re right,” Kylo mutters, glancing up at her.

“What’s done is done,” she replies, perching on the edge of his bed. “We’ll just have to do better next time.”

Kylo turns the chair slowly to face her, leaning back in his chair; his dark eyes linger at the sight of her sitting on his bed for just long enough, and she jumps up from the mattress as though it’s suddenly burned her, an unspoken apology in her throat.

“It’s all right,” Kylo says, gesturing tiredly to the bed before flopping his arm across his stomach, his too-long legs splayed out. “I don’t have another chair, anyway.”

“I…” Rey says distractedly, pacing back and forth next to the bed and marshalling her thoughts, before stopping uncertainly. 

“I think we should visit Han,” she finally says.

Kylo’s gaze slides away. 

“Have you seen him recently?” She presses. “He wanders around the station like a ghost. He won’t talk to anyone.”

“What makes you think he’ll talk to us?”

“You’re his son.”

Rey braces herself for a cutting retort, but is met only with a silent, blank stare.

“There’s no one else on this station who can offer him more comfort than you. You’re his only family now.”

“I’m hardly his ‘family,’” Kylo mutters. But his usual dark intensity, his venomous obstinacy, isn’t there.

Rey eyes him until he finally caves.

“All right,” he sighs.

\---

A cautious knock. “Han?”

A long pause; no answer. Rey presses her ear against Han’s door and doesn’t hear anything, not even the slightest of scuffles.

“Han,” she calls gently through the scratched metal. “It’s Rey. I’m here with Kylo.”

Another long pause. Just when Rey is about to give up and walk away, she hears the shuffling of slippers, and a moment later, Han opens the door a crack. His salt-and-pepper hair is uncombed, his Ranger uniform wrinkled, his face devoid of color; the lines running across his forehead and down his cheeks and fanning out from the corners of his eyes cut especially deep, giving his face the appearance of a weathered tree trunk. He stares at Rey hollowly for a moment, before his gaze meanders to Kylo. He screws up his face for a moment, as though profoundly confused.

“Kid?” He mutters.

Kylo’s jaw works silently at the endearment. “We came to see if you’d like some company,” he finally mutters, almost inaudibly.

Han steps back, swinging his door open wider and mumbling “come in, come in” distractedly. He watches as the two Rangers enter, before turning and shambling to his bed and sitting heavily atop the thin, rumpled blanket. 

Leia’s side of the bed is unmade as well, as though she’d left in a hurry. Her nightstand and dresser are covered in her personal effects, left untouched; her desk is flooded with papers, portfolios, plans, and other odds and ends, desk organizers stuffed full with office supplies, and a separate organizer for her perfumes and hair products and makeup; the laundry basket tucked next to the bed has some of her uniforms and shirts tossed carelessly into it. Rey examines Han for a moment, sitting lifelessly amid all the reminders of Leia in the unnervingly still room, before giving Kylo a meaningful look. Kylo shoots her a begrudging glance in response and walks hesitantly over to Han, sitting on the bed next to him.

“Han?” Kylo says quietly; then: “Dad?”

Han turns his head and stares at his son for a long moment. “Kylo,” he mumbles; he reaches out a wrinkled, slightly stiff hand and gently pats Kylo’s knee. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Kylo’s own hands clench and unclench rapidly; he looks away quickly. “How are you doing?” He mutters to the floor.

Han shrugs emptily. Rey drags Han’s chair over from his desk and plops down in front of the two men, looking concernedly between the two.

“We came to make sure that you’re doing okay,” Kylo says haltingly; Rey nods in agreement.

“I’ve been thinking about all of them,” Han says slowly, defeat lacing his voice like a slow poison. “Chewie, Lando, Ben, and now Luke and…and…” Leia’s name runs silently over his tongue. “I can’t stop thinking about them.”

“I’m here,” Kylo says, hesitantly, his intense discomfort evident.

“Yeah.” Han’s smile is painful to see. “You are. Thanks for coming to see me, kid.” 

Without warning, Han leans over and folds Kylo into his frail arms. Kylo immediately tenses up, going stiff as a wooden board as his father holds him; his expression shifts restlessly between discomfort, pain, and guilt as his father’s shoulders begin to shake.

Rey’s mind flits back to her brief conversation with Galen as she watches another father hug his child, to Luke and Unkar, and she draws away from the sudden stab of envy as she stares at Han’s bowed back.

“Rey,” Kylo begins, but Rey stands quickly, knocking the chair with the backs of her knees, and is hurrying out the door before he can finish.

\---

_You need to get back out there._

_You need to get it together._

_I will be with you, always._

Holdo shoves the muddled voices to the back of her sleep-deprived mind, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear with shaking fingers, and throws open the door of the command center.

“Commander,” people in the back of the room exclaim, jumping to their feet to acknowledge her presence; the rest of the skeleton crew in the room follow suit.

“At ease,” she mutters. She glares about the room at the smattering of people present, her sweeping gaze like an arctic wind. The occupants of the room sit back down uncertainly, hazarding glances at their wild-looking Commander as she stalks to the front of the room. Bodhi looks like a deer caught in headlights as he watches her approach.

“Welcome back to the bridge, Commander,” he manages as she stops before the wall of screens. In lieu of live Kaiju coverage, the screens display various statistics and statuses of the remaining Jaegers.

“Walk me through this,” she says shortly, waving a hand at the screens. With a rush of relief, Bodhi jumps into summarizing the repairs of the Jaegers, detailing the contributions of various other countries. Holdo listens, seemingly only half-present; one of her clasped hands moves up unconsciously and she begins picking at her scabbed-over lip, her blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on the screens.

_I will be with you, always._

\---

After leaving Han in what he hopes is a better state, Kylo approaches Rey’s closed door and raps on the metal.

“Rey,” he says, resting his temple against the door, “it’s me. Let me in.”

Silence.

“I know you’re in there. Please, let me in.”

Still no movement.

“Remember what I said, all those days ago?” He says gently, almost tenderly, to his copilot. “You’re not alone anymore. You belong with me.”

He waits for a long moment, minutes perhaps. 

“Don’t go that way,” he says quietly. “Please, don’t go that way again.”

Then, slowly, he retreats.

\---

It’s late; the moon has risen high in the cloud-choked sky, visible only for moments at a time, and the clamor of the city has diminished to a soothing hum. The night air is heavy with moisture, signaling the approach of a thunderstorm. Kylo lies in his bed, stretched out over his blanket on the too-small mattress, staring up at the ceiling of his quarters, his mind wandering restlessly… 

Then, quietly, almost inaudibly, there’s a knock at his door.

He turns his head, unsure of whether the knock was real; but there it is again, a little louder this time. He heaves himself to his feet and pads barefoot to the door. Without looking through the peephole, he unlocks and opens his door. 

Standing there, looking achingly small with her finely-spun hair hanging about her shoulders and her slender body swallowed up in the folds of her bedclothes, stands Rey.

Her gaze snaps up to his face as his door opens, her cheeks dusted with pink. Her gaze slides back to the ground, shy and withdrawn and sad, like the day they first met; she steps around him, through his open door; another few steps, and she’s clambering into his bed. 

Kylo closes the door, locks it, and turns to watch as Rey shifts wordlessly on his bed, her back to him, nudging his blanket out of the way and curling in on herself. 

He stands there for a moment longer, gazing at her slender ankles and bare feet, her already narrow shoulders and diminutive back looking even more vulnerable and defenseless, her hair fanning out on his pillow. Before either of them can change their minds, he strides back to his bed and climbs in behind Rey, scooping her close to him as he settles in; one of his arms reaches under her easily and wraps around her shoulders and chest, and the other curves over her and presses firmly into her lower belly and hip, pulling her back flush against his expansive chest. 

Despite the humid heat of the early autumn night, Rey sinks into the warmth of Kylo’s long, broad body; she breathes a nervous sigh as Kylo tucks her against him, his nose nudging fleetingly at the crook of her neck. His heart thrums, vital and confident, against her shoulder blade, and its rhythmic pulse is soothing. It's difficult to believe that she's sparred with this body, fought alongside this formidable presence; it's almost impossible to reconcile the power and agility and ferocity with the awkward, wordless tenderness and gentle strength.

Rey puffs another sigh, this one a bit more relaxed. She sniffles once, quietly; the giant hand pressed into her hip begins to thumb soothing circles over the threadbare fabric of her pants. Kylo listens intently as Rey's breathing evens out, the shallow, uneven, tense pants giving way to deep, measured breaths; he waits as the tension and grief knotted in her shoulders begin to melt and her body becomes bonelessly relaxed, before he closes his eyes, pressing himself close to her, and allows himself to slip into sleep.

\---

When Rey awakens, her face is pressed uncomfortably into unfamiliar-smelling sheets, and a thin sheen of sweat coats her skin; when she starts and tries to jump out of the bed, she finds an unforgiving weight resting partially across her back. She blinks once, taking in the strange, dark room, the heavy, bulky arm wrapped securely around her—

— _Oh._

She wriggles out as gently as she can from underneath Kylo, but the creaking of the bedframe sounds like a firecracker in the dark stillness, and Kylo jerks awake.

“Hmm?” He mumbles sleepily, before realizing that Rey had crawled out from underneath him. He sits up, almost immediately awake. Sheets of rain pound against the metallic sides of the Shatterdome, creating a surprisingly loud din; the wordless silence stretches between them as they stare at each other.

“Are you all right?” He ventures.

“I’m better now,” she answers.

“What happened last night?”

“I… I didn’t want to be alone. I’m sorry.”

“It's all right. Don’t apologize.” 

In the darkness of the room, his usually-stoic face is even more difficult to read. He shifts on the bed, edging towards her slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rey squints at the analog clock sitting on Kylo’s desk; it reads 06:30.

“Maybe later,” she mutters evasively, turning away. “I need to go shower. I’ll see you for breakfast?”

She doesn’t wait to see Kylo’s nod, and makes a dash for the door, closing it as quietly as she can behind her before skimming across the hallway floor towards her room, the sound of her footsteps suffocated by the din of the relentless downpour and the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

If she’s honest with herself, she would admit that she doesn’t quite understand what drove her to Kylo’s door last night. She would acknowledge the loneliness, the sense of alienation, that she’d felt as she watched Han embrace him yesterday. She would smile at the memory of falling asleep in Kylo’s arms, the press of his broad chest against her back, the feeling of being protected and wanted and loved for the first time in her life.

But she’s no good at honesty. And so she runs.

Just as she’s reaching for the handle of the door to her room, her cheeks still burning, the Kaiju alarm wails without warning, cresting over the sound of rain. Urgent, abrasive, and unbearably loud, it hammers at Rey’s already-frayed nerves and makes her jump violently.

After a few pulses of the alarm, as lights flicker on beneath doors and the sounds of scuffling and cursing sweep down the hallway, Bodhi’s voice crackles over the intercom.

“Kaiju event. Kaiju event.” A short pause; then, in a chillingly glum tone: “Our first Category 6.”

\---

When Rey arrives at the command center, still struggling with the zipper of her Ranger uniform, hair and face tended to cursorily and stomach twinging with hunger, she finds most of the remaining Rangers already present. She weaves her way through the small crowd of people and, on pure instinct, plants herself by Kylo’s side. To her small comfort and relief, she finds Han there as well, hair combed out of his face, shoulders held self-consciously straight; he nods distractedly at her.

“What’s going on?” Rey puffs. Kylo circles his arm around her wordlessly, pulling her close; she then notices the look on his face. She follows his gaze to the screens. 

Most of the drone cameras are either offline or too close to the mysterious Kaiju to offer much of a view; she glimpses light gray-green, wet, rubbery skin, a flash of leathery material, a glint of fish-like scales. Something long and whip-like lashes out at one of the cameras, and the feed fizzles out to static. Water crashing, rain pelting, thunderclouds racing low in the sky; a brief, pale glow of red.

Another drone jostles and goes dark; Bodhi swears. “I can’t get a good look at this thing,” he exclaims. “The drones deployed too close to the breach.”

“Too close?” Holdo repeats, incredulous. “They’re stationed miles from the breach.”

“The Kaiju’s big,” Bodhi offers by way of explanation. “Might even be a Cat-7, if we really got down to the technicalities… I don’t know. We might be able to get a better look at it if we just...went outside?” He snaps his mouth shut, seemingly shocked by his own suggestion.

“I’ll go,” Kaydel pipes up, and is halfway out the door before anyone can do anything about it, fishing her tightly-folded poncho out of a pocket as she goes. There’s a pause, before someone mumbles “fuck it” and hurries after the scientist. Most of the remaining people in the room then follow suit, spilling out into the hangar and on through the exit into the lashing rain. 

Rey wriggles into her poncho and holds her hood in place against the cold, rain-lashed ocean wind, the sound of crashing water filling her ears, and squints out east, towards the breach. 

At first, she isn’t quite able to register what she sees. The hulking shape seems much closer to the Shatterdome than a Kaiju would normally be if it had just emerged from the breach; the upper part of the Kaiju is hidden in the low-hanging storm clouds. Rey is just able to make out a slightly domed head, and a pair of glowing eyes—red, like the Category 5 Kaiju’s, but pearlescent, almost filmy; perhaps blind?

Kylo grabs her arm suddenly, yanking her backwards. Someone shouts something incoherent, the terror evident in their voice; it sounds like Poe. Rey wonders distantly what the commotion is. 

Just then, a flash of lightning shatters the air, close to the Shatterdome but closer to the Kaiju. As the thunderclap assaults her ears, Rey feels the blood draining from her face.

The Kaiju doesn’t tower over them because it’s traveled towards them from the breach; it towers over them because it’s fucking _huge_ , standing several times taller than the Category 5 Kaiju had. The flash of lightning outlines scaly, impossibly thick arms ending in clawed hand-like appendages that could easily palm one of Hong Kong’s smaller islands, and silhouettes a set of leathery wings, the span of which could probably be measured in football fields. 

“We have to get inside!” Kylo bellows into Rey’s ear. She staggers a few steps back at his insistent tugging, her eyes glued in horrified fascination to the towering, ominously silent form of the Kaiju. Another devastating crack of lightning, illuminating the heavens between the tufted cracks of the clouds, and she’s able to glimpse not only the horrible pale red eyes, but the mass of mile-long tentacles that cluster where a mouth should be. 

The crew members who had ventured out into the rain are now clamoring to get back into the imagined safety of the Shatterdome, and Rey is buoyed back indoors by the panicked crowd. She turns to Kylo as someone slams the door shut, and sees her own fear and exhaustion mirrored in his eyes; he wraps a hand around her wrist, the other hand clamped vice-like on Han’s shoulder, and the three hurry back to the command center.

Just as they reach the stairs to the command center, the door slams open, and Holdo strides out, a small cluster of frazzled crew members following behind her. One of them, jogging to keep up with her, speaks urgently.

“Ma’am, we _really_ suggest that you—”

“—stay in the command center and watch as this thing tears Hong Kong apart? I don’t think so,” she snaps at the poor man trying to reason with her. “The other Jaegers aren’t ready for deployment yet. If Tico isn’t here in two minutes, I’m heading out in the _Reckoning_ alone.”

“I’m here, ma’am,” Rose exclaims as she bursts past Rey, hurtling up the steps towards the Commander; having spent almost every hour of the past few days focused on repairing the remaining Jaegers, her eyes are bloodshot and the bags beneath them are like dabs of violet paint, but she stands to attention as though nothing is wrong.

“Good,” Holdo barks. “I hope you’re ready to be deployed.”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Commander, wait!” Kaydel shouts over the chaos. “It’s not an Exterminator, it’s just an Imperator. It’s not here to destroy. We have to listen to what it—Commander!” 

Neither Holdo nor Rose appear to hear Kaydel in their single-minded rush. Rey turns to watch the Commander and the head mechanic jog towards the towering _Reckoning_ , resplendent in its refurbished glory, its newly-installed incendiary weapons gleaming with cold flawlessness in the dim light of the hangar. 

They make it about halfway to the Jaeger before first Holdo staggers, and then Rose.

“What—?”

Rey feels it then: an oppressive presence in her mind, so overwhelming that it seems to crowd her thoughts, her consciousness, her very individuality into the recesses of her own mind. The foreign presence, its focus bent single-mindedly on invasion, overflows every sense; her vision wheels; she barely feels the bruising impact of the ground against her knees as she keels forward. In a way, it feels similar to the drift, but whereas the drift was designed to facilitate cooperation between two minds, this sensation is entirely displacing, disempowering.

Something like a mouth opens in her mind, and a voice bubbles over.

<Citizens of Earth, I am the Emissary of the Judges. I come in peace.>

Rey screams, but her own voice is blocked out by the thunderous yet desolately colorless voice clanging in her skull, a voice that evokes prehistoric storms, fetid seas, glacial winds, teeth set on edge.

<I’ve come to inform you that the Judges have destined the human race for destruction. The final wave of the Extermination will begin in twenty four hours’ time. All attempts to close the Gateway will be futile, and all acts of hostility or defiance will face retaliation. I formally invite any unarmed delegation to approach me with any questions and to come to terms with your inevitable fate. As Emissary, I am an ambassador to humankind, and place myself at your service.>

Curiously, psychotically polite. The presence withdraws from Rey's mind almost as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her thoughts confused and scattered and grimy, like cockroaches exposed to sunlight. Her ears ring with the sudden silence; the spinning room slows until the ground is once again where it should be. Her head pounds with sudden pain, and she groans from the impact.

“Rey?” Kylo's beside her, his teeth clenched in pain as he helps her up.

“I’m fine. Did you…?” Rey trails off, looking up at him. 

He nods tightly. “By the looks of it, everyone here did.”

“Imperator, not Exterminator,” Kaydel mutters, lying flat on her back. “I _tried_ to tell them.”

Bodhi appears at the entrance of the command center, one hand braced against the doorframe and the other wiping at his forehead. He’s visibly fighting the trembling in his knees as he searches the hangar for Holdo.

“Commander,” he calls, his voice slightly reedy from exertion, “the Kaiju...it’s just sitting over the breach. It’s not doing anything.”

Holdo picks herself up from the ground, stumbling a step before hurrying as quickly as she can back into the command center, her face pale and drawn. Rey and Kylo and the remaining Rangers collect their nerves and follow their Commander, huddling in the back of the room and watching the screens. The gargantuan Kaiju, having accomplished its purpose for the time being, crouches sphinx-like over the breach, as Bodhi described, collapsing its impossible height down close to the ocean floor. Its unnerving red eyes are closed; its shoulders are bunched with the constant exertion of crouching; its folded wings protrude from the choppy surface of the ocean like twin masts of some barbaric ship; it holds itself still and silent. It waits.

Zorii voices the question on everyone's minds.

“What are we going to do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feat. guest appearance by Galen Erso ⭐ and flower arrangements by Hux 🌹
> 
> Oh and also our first Cat-6. Yes, that is also important.
> 
> 5 more chapters to go!!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of filler-ish.

Rey and Kylo are huddled together in his room, door closed to the rest of the world, watching the news on his phone with blank faces. While Holdo is locked away in an emergency meeting with military leaders around the world—those who aren't dealing with the unfolding chaos in their countries, anyway—the rest of the Shatterdome crew, having been instructed to prepare (for what, exactly, no one knows), go about their daily duties, dream-like, in fear and despair and denial. Rose and Han and their teams of workers and engineers, already overworked and stressed, triple their efforts at repairing the remaining Jaegers; it doesn't help that several crew members have deserted to spend their supposed last hours with their families. 

The Rangers, instructed to prepare for deployment, revert to doing simply whatever they feel like doing. Finn and Poe, eager to redirect their thoughts from impending doom, disappear into the training wing; Jannah locks herself in her room and calls her family back in Grenada; Zorii changes into her jogging clothes and sprints along the perimeter of the Shatterdome in the pouring rain until the stabbing pain in her lungs and the cramping in her calves fill her mind, squeezing out the complicated and frightening emotions that threaten to overwhelm her. 

Rey and Kylo, initially unsure of what to do, join Finn and Poe in the training wing for a bit, but after a few rounds of sparring, they catch each other’s eyes from opposite ends of the mat and stare at each other for a long moment. Kylo crosses over the mat to the exit of the room, and turns to watch Rey as she flits after him. They walk wordlessly to his room. 

“Do you want to talk?” He asks as he closes his door behind them.

“No,” she mumbles in reply. “Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

He sits down heavily next to her on his bed, and they stare at the small square of overcast sky through his pitiful window. Training feels futile; talking feels pointless; and yet, ignoring the threat of the Emissary Kaiju doesn’t feel like an option either. Being together is better than being alone, but the presence of another person doesn’t distract from the promise of apocalypse. The minutes tick by, and each unrecallable drop of time feels like an impossible weight.

“I’m going to watch the news. Is that okay with you?” Kylo presently says.

Rey flops onto her back. “Yeah.”

Kylo props his phone up on his desk and switches to one of the news outlets that he follows, and images of chaos immediately fill his screen. A young-ish man dressed haphazardly with a raincoat thrown on over his business casual shouts into his microphone over the sounds of people shouting, car tires squealing, the occasional breaking or shattering of objects.

“...can see, Sabine, it’s only been about two hours after the Kaiju’s telepathic broadcast, and the streets have already broken out in pandemonium. Thousands of civilians have taken to the streets. Looting, pillaging, and general rioting can be seen on nearly every block of the downtown area. Some areas have police officers attempting to keep the worst of the violence at bay, but there has not yet been word of the Army Reserve being deployed. As Kanan mentioned, we have yet to hear from the Prime Minister, and as a result of the absence of a central voice of authority, the response to the Kaiju’s broadcast and to the devolving situation we’re seeing here has been fractured and disorganised.”

“Thanks, Ezra. We’ve just received a report of a temple outside the city that has gone up in flames, with hundreds feared to be still inside. It’s believed, but yet to be confirmed, that the leader of a cult called Children of Chorazos proclaimed the latest Kaiju to be Cthulhu from HP Lovecraft’s work, _The Call of Cthulhu_ , and compelled his followers to join him in a mass suicide by burning—”

Kylo switches to another news outlet, scrolling for a moment before pulling something else up.

“—the Chinese security apparatus has immediately taken action, broadcasting messages of reassurance and calling for peace, resilience, and unity, while deploying military personnel to cities where the upheaval has been most destructive. It’s not yet clear if the President is planning on deploying military force against the Kaiju—”

“—here at the UN headquarters, and as you can see, the building has been stormed and destroyed by rioters, almost beyond recognition. It’s not clear how much authority the UN now holds over the global response to the Kaiju’s threats, or how many countries are willing to cooperate—”

Kylo switches off his phone screen with an abrupt motion and a quiet “Fuck”, burying his face in his hands; Rey resumes staring at the ceiling.

“I wish Leia was here,” Kylo finally says, quietly.

“I wish Luke was here. They’d know what to do.”

“It isn’t just that,” Kylo says. “It’s… I mean, when we last saw each other… It wasn’t how I wanted to say good-bye to her.”

“I know,” Rey reassures him, softly.

“I should have tried harder,” Kylo says. “I should have been better. I should have been more like—”

“Don’t say it,” Rey warns, sitting up as she cuts him off. “She loved you for who you are.”

“I know,” Kylo says raggedly. “But I should have… I _could_ have…”

Rey scrabbles over the bed to his side and wraps her arms around him, unable to speak for Leia, unable to offer comfort.

\---

Kaydel’s phone rings in the pocket of her sweater as she’s sitting at her desk in the empty R&D wing, staring at her pages of notes arranged over the wooden surface with glassy eyes. She fishes her phone out of her sweater and stares at the contact name for a moment, before answering.

“Hey, Armie.”

“Hello, Kay.”

“How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretches out between them, companionable, as it often does when they’re together these days.

“So,” Armitage says slowly, “I was wondering if you’d be interested in getting a coffee with me sometime. You know, before the world ends, and we all die.”

Kaydel’s head shoots up. This man just can’t seem to stop shocking her.

“I-I-” She stumbles. “I’ve...never been on a real date before. I mean, _is_ this a date? Are we going on a date? Or is it just, like, a _friends_ —”

“We're not meeting up to discuss Kaiju biochemistry,” Armitage says flatly. “It's a date.”

“Oh.” A small smile tugs at the corners of Kaydel’s mouth as the shock gives way to giddiness.

“There’s just one small problem,” she quips, hoping that playfulness will disguise her nerves. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“No? Tea, then?”

“Bubble tea.”

“Ah.” 

Kaydel imagines the grimace on Armitage’s face, and grins.

“Well,” Armitage drawls after a long moment of pretend consideration, “I _suppose_ I can make an exception this time.”

Kaydel giggles. “Have you heard of the Chun Shui Tang Cultural Tea House?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“It’s over in Millennium City 5, in Kwun Tong. They have a great menu. But since it’s the end of the world,” Kaydel muses, heart sinking, “it’s probably even more crowded than usual. I’m not sure we’d be able to get seats.”

“Darling,” Armitage scolds, “have some faith in me. I’ll figure out a way. How about I pick you up in half an hour?”

“Um.” The lump of excitement lodged in Kaydel’s throat threatens to jump out of her mouth. “Th-that should be fine, yes.”

“All right. I’ll see you then,” Armitage says coolly, as though they are, in fact, only meeting up to discuss Kaiju biochemistry, and hangs up.

\---

Commander Holdo has locked herself in her room to participate in an emergency meeting with military leaders from around the world. 

At least, that’s what the rest of the Shatterdome has been told. 

She sits now in front of a blank screen, hair wild and eyes focused on a whorl in the wooden surface of her desk. There’s no one to talk to, no one to consult, no one with whom to plan a strategy of attack; everyone is too occupied with dealing with the unfolding chaos in their own countries, or too focused on fortifying their own countries to care about anyone else, or simply too indecisive and overwhelmed to sit down and hammer out a plan. And anyway, how likely is it that they would be able to work together now, when they’ve barely been able to collaborate in much less dire situations?

_Fuck them. We don’t need them._

No, we don’t, Holdo agrees. But what options does that leave her? There are multiple layers here. The Kaiju needs to be dealt with. After that, the breach. But even if the breach is closed, the Judges need to be dealt with, or else they will simply reopen the breach and continue—

And she finds herself in that place yet again—a strange tightening sensation in her chest, stabs of dizziness and shortness of breath. She feels as though someone’s hands are closing around her throat; she claws at the invisible fingers, snarling with frustration when there are no fingers to pry away. 

_Snap out of it. You_ need _to snap out of it. You don’t have time._

I know. I KNOW. But I can’t stop… I can’t control this. What’s happening to me?

Holdo buries her face in her trembling hands and focuses on breathing. She isn’t sure how much time passes. The voice floating in her mind, much like another person’s consciousness in a drift, settles quietly, like a blanket of dust. It sounds like the voice of someone she knew, once. A long time ago. 

She gives her head a tentative shake, and is relieved when her vision doesn’t spin.

_Get up_ , the voice says. _You know what you need to do._

_And I will be with you. Always_...

Yes. Holdo uncurls herself and pushes to her feet, her desk lamp throwing her shadow across the room as she stands. She peels off her Commander’s uniform and dons her Ranger uniform. She flings her door open and marches down to the hangar.

\---

“So,” Kaydel says, stirring her tall, luxuriously milky glass of bubble tea with a fat straw, “how _did_ you manage to get us seats?” She inclines her head to the elegant wooden interior of the small restaurant, which is teeming with people crouched over tall drinks and plates and tiny bowls of delicious-smelling food. They’d bypassed a multi-block-long line outside the restaurant, and the waitress who’d shown them to their table seemed to know Armitage on sight.

“Turns out Bazine has a friend who has a friend,” Armitage says, smirking. He stabs at a corner of the decadent pearl ice cream toast dish between them and holds it up for inspection, looking decidedly skeptical. By far the most ridiculous item on the menu, it was, oddly, the only dish that Kaydel could prevail upon him to try.

“Go on,” she urges, giggling. “It’s amazing.”

He hesitantly shoves the forkful into his mouth and chews, deadpanned, for a long moment.

“Okay,” he finally says, nodding his defeat, as he swallows. “I get it.”

He reaches for another bite; Kaydel beams at him. “Do you have a sweet tooth?” She asks.

“Mm.” He thinks for a moment as he chews. “Not really. Usually sweet things are just too much. But when it’s the perfect amount of sweetness…” He swallows and just barely winks at her. “...Perfection.”

Kaydel looks away quickly, blushing up to the roots of her hair. Armitage smirks easily, satisfied at his handiwork, before setting his fork down. Then, abruptly, his smirk drops from his face.

“Do you have a plan? For...for tomorrow morning?” 

Kaydel glances back up at him, her cheeks still burning. “What? Um,” she mutters. “I’ll be...at the Shatterdome, I guess.”

“You know,” Armitage says slowly, “I’ve got an underground bunker that’s stocked and ready to go. As of now, it’s just going to be me in it tomorrow morning. But I was wondering if you’d…”

“Oh.” Kaydel swirls her straw around in her drink, thinking.

“I can’t abandon the base,” she finally says. “The situation there is pretty dire, what with all the desertions. I don’t know how much use I will be, but Commander Holdo must have a plan by now, and she’s probably going to need all hands on deck. B-but you’re very kind to...to invite me to your…”

“I understand,” Armitage says. Kaydel searches his face for coldness or offense, but sees none; she nods hesitantly.

“Do you think me a coward for hiding in a bunker?” Armitage ventures.

“Of course not!” Kaydel assures him with wide eyes. “I think it’s perfectly reasonable to want to survive whatever’s coming tomorrow. I just...I know I’ll have some opportunity to be useful at the Shatterdome. I hope to, anyway. So that’s where I’ll be.”

“Then,” Armitage says slowly, “this could be the last time we see each other.”

Kaydel drops her gaze. “It’s possible, yes,” she concedes. “But hasn’t that always been the case?”

Something in the distance crashes then, something that isn’t lightning. Heads turn immediately, and Armitage and Kaydel press themselves to the window. The ground trembles; the people in the room watch dumbly for a moment as the buildings surrounding them also quiver visibly. 

Armitage leaps up from his seat and shouts, in passable Chinese: “Everyone get out!”

There’s a mad clamor for the door. As people spill out into the Millennium City 5 building, Kaydel hangs back and stares out the window for a moment longer. She isn’t sure, but she thinks she sees something rising out of the ocean, dangerously close to the Shatterdome—a massive dark shape that keeps growing and unfolding, with terrifying speed.

“Something’s happening with the Kaiju,” she shouts as Armitage pulls her away from the window. He peers out through the falling sheets of rain, and his already-pasty face grows even paler. He ushers her out of the restaurant, out of the building, out into the street, and around the corner to where his driver sits anxiously in the car. Wincing against the rain, they clamber into the car as quickly as possible, and Armitage slams the door shut behind them; they sit, panting and dripping wet, for a long moment.

“I need to get back,” Kaydel whispers.

Armitage looks at her for a long moment; the driver drums his fingers nervously on the wheel.

“All right,” Armitage says, and taps the back of the driver’s seat. “To the Shatterdome.”

The drive back to the Shatterdome is fast, tense, and quiet; Kaydel presses herself to the window, her eyes glued to the rapidly-nearing form of the Kaiju as it thrashes about. As they near the Shatterdome, she’s able to pick out more and more details through the curtains of rain—the invincible-looking, colossal claws, craggy and leathery; the forest of tentacles spilling forth from the creature’s jaw and mouth area; the glowing eyes, distant and utterly inhuman and somehow empty. It remains oddly silent as it swings its claw at something standing in front of it, something much smaller and faster. 

Kaydel squints out across the churning water. Is that—?

“This is the furthest I can go,” the driver announces as he pulls up along the side of the road, near the bridge leading from the island to the Shatterdome.

“You don’t have to go back,” Armitage says in a low voice. Kaydel feels his hand close over hers hesitantly, and turns to look at him.

“You could come with me,” he presses. 

Kaydel leans closer to him and places a hesitant hand on his cheek. His eyes dart up to her face. The moment is clumsy—her hand shaking slightly against his face, a chunk of damp hair hanging over her cheek, his eyes suddenly _way_ too close. But she gulps down a breath and soldiers on.

“I have to go,” she murmurs.

He presses his mouth into a thin line. “I know,” he says quietly.

“Go, be safe. Lock yourself away and don’t come out until the breach is closed.” 

“Try to do the same. Once this is over…”

“Once this is over,” Kaydel agrees. She stares hard into Armitage’s pale brown eyes until her own eyes begin to water. She remembers the first time she saw him, standing distant and aloof in his laboratory, in his ridiculous gold-embroidered red suit and his ostentatious gold-plated shoes, and feels a lump rise in her throat. She leans closer, filling the space between them, and plants a nervous kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

Then, turning quickly so that she doesn't have to see the expression on his face, she jumps out of the car, her hand slipping out from under his, and hurries across the bridge into the hangar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Err so I think the Armitage/Kaydel pairing has officially taken over this story... 😅
> 
> Kidding (mostly)! We will be seeing quite a lot of Rey and Kylo in the next few chapters! Four more to go -- stay tuned. :)
> 
> (But seriously I did not expect our science nerd and our black market Kaiju parts dealer to take so much of the limelight... I guess sometimes that's writing for you hehe)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, mind the tags!

“What was that?” Rey leaps up from Kylo’s mattress and onto her feet as a rumble shakes the Shatterdome. Moments later, the alarm blares.

“Another Kaiju? But it hasn’t been 24 hours—”

“All personnel to battle stations.” Han’s voice. “Code 13. This is not a drill. Repeat, Code 13—this is _not_ a drill.”

Kylo shoots to his feet then. Code 13, never before used at this Shatterdome, is the code for an unauthorized Jaeger deployment. He shares a bewildered look with Rey for a moment, before they run out of Kylo's room. 

There’s a crowd of confused workers in the hangar, and it seems as though the carefully-designed traffic system painted on the ground has been entirely abandoned. Rey and Kylo are forced to elbow their way to the command center.

Han turns to look at them as they hurry in, his face drawn; he looks more present and on edge than he has since Leia’s death. “It’s Holdo in the _Reckoning_ ,” he says to their silent questions.

“The _Reckoning_?” Rey echoes, lost.

“She had the _Brawler_ rechristened after Rose brought it back into commission.”

“But why?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“So she’s out there, fighting the Kaiju?”

“Yes,” Han says shortly. “I don’t know what’s going on. She tore through the clamps and overrode the controls on the hangar door, and now she’s not responding to our hails.”

“Is she in there alone?” Rose demands as she enters the command center; a rain-drenched Kaydel follows close on her heels. “We were supposed to copilot.”

“No one was seen going in with her, and there isn’t a second set of vitals,” Bodhi pipes up. “I don’t think all of our pilots are accounted for yet, but as of now I think she’s piloting alone.”

“What is she doing?” Kylo demands. “Is this part of the strategy between all of the UN member militaries?”

“I don’t know,” Han repeats, slightly irritably. “Like I said, she’s not talking to us.” Then, to no one in particular, he barks: “Can we get a line to the UN?” A crew member scrambles to initiate the call. 

Han then grabs a mic and unmutes. “LOCCENT to _Reckoning_ ,” he rasps agitatedly. “Amilyn, talk to me. What are you doing? Are you in there with someone else? Do you need backup?”

Static; no answer.

“I have a line open with Korr Sella,” someone announces. Han snatches up the phone and presses it urgently to his ear.

“Ms. Sella,” he begins, “I was wondering if you know anything about an organized offensive on the Kaiju… No, she’s out in a Jaeger, piloting solo… I thought you were in an emergency meeting with her half an hour ago?... Now hold on, what do you mean, there wasn’t a meeting?”

“I’m going to override the _Reckoning_ ’s comm system,” Rose announces, reaching for a nearby terminal.

“We don’t have much time left,” Bodhi warns. “The _Reckoning_ ’s left flamethrower is shot, incendiary grenades are almost out, and the Commander’s vitals are starting to look rough.”

Rose nods shortly and sets to work. Han hangs up his phone, looking more confused and angry than before, just as another crew member pops his head into the command center. “Han, all pilots and Rangers are accounted for.”

“Amilyn,” Han says into the _Reckoning_ ’s mic, “we know that there wasn’t an emergency strategy meeting with members of the UN. You mind telling me what all this is about?”

“I’ve got it,” Rose says, looking up with wide eyes as she types in a final command. Footage from the _Reckoning_ flickers onto the screen, and the sound of Holdo’s ragged breathing fills the room.

“Commander?” Han says.

“I’m not in here alone,” Holdo mumbles.

“What?”

“I’m not alone.” Then, trance-like, barely above a whisper, even as she engages her right flamethrower and loads another TPA warhead into her incendiary rocket launcher: “I will be with you. Always.”

Rey glances around the room to see if anyone else knows what Holdo means; she sees mostly confusion and exasperation, but on Han’s face, she sees shock.

“What does she mean?” Kylo presses.

Han’s shoulders sag an inch. “‘I will be with you, always,’” he mutters. “That was something she and Din said to each other, back when he was around.”

“Is she hallucinating her dead husband?” Kaydel demands. “If that’s the case, we need to get her back to the Shatterdome asap, and get her checked into the med wing.”

“Amilyn,” Han says into the mic, his voice taking on a cajoling tone, “we need you to come back in. Din isn’t here anymore. Please don’t do this. Come back in and let us take care of you.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of,” Holdo snarls suddenly as she launches another volley of incendiaries at the Kaiju. “That was something Din understood about me.” 

The incendiary jelly in the projectiles burst into white-hot flame as they make contact with the Kaiju’s head and shoulders. The Kaiju’s face remains impassive, but a shriek of pain sears through Rey’s mind, sudden and white-hot like a flash of lightning. Others in the room double over at the sudden, strange sensation. The Kaiju splashes ocean water onto its body in a futile attempt to put out the liquid flames.

“Commander,” Han responds, “your attacking the Kaiju could accelerate the final extermination wave. Please fall back. We need to discuss strategy—”

“I’m not discussing strategy with anyone,” Holdo snaps, taking advantage of the _Reckoning_ ’s flame-resistant shell and the Kaiju’s distress to move in closer to utilize more _Brawler_ -esque close combat features. With a ragged cry, Holdo engages the _Reckoning_ ’s Tesla cell-powered Fists, and with added force from the Jaeger’s spring-loaded arms, she slams the Fists into either side of the Kaiju’s right arm; there’s a satisfying crunch of bone. The _Reckoning_ leaps back as the Kaiju’s mind lashes out again in pain, the impact at once cutting and chilling. Its right arm twitches and jerks uncontrollably from the combination of the electric shock and pure physical force of Holdo’s attack.

“Oh my god,” Kaydel splutters as the room watches the Kaiju claw helplessly with its left arm at its now-unresponsive right arm, various parts of its body still aflame. Its flailing and staggering fan the already-choppy waters of the ocean into massive waves. Water laps dangerously high against the raised platform on which the Shatterdome stands. The _Reckoning_ drops into a ready stance, loading another round of incendiary warheads into its rocket launcher. Holdo moves fluidly from one thing to the next as though she hasn’t been retired for years, flipping through her console to monitor remaining resources, checking her own vitals briefly, and running a program to check for nicks in the _Reckoning_ ’s flame-resistant coating. A constant stream of muttering, too soft to be audible, buzzes through the comm system; Rey realizes that Holdo is talking to herself. Seemingly satisfied with the state of things, Holdo redirects her focus back to the Kaiju, and the room watches as she closes back in, weapons at the ready.

“Well shit,” Poe mutters, his face breaking out into a grin. “If she keeps that up, she might actually take this thing out on her own.”

“Was she always this insane?” Zorii asks, eyes bugged out. 

“I guess most of you have never seen her jockey,” Han muses. “Yeah, she and Din were something else when they were copilots of the _Brawler_.” 

He looks at the Rangers gathered in the room for a moment. “Say, Rose, which Jaegers are good to go?”

“Um,” Rose says, blinking. “ _Blitzkrieg_ and _Rising Tide_ are done. _Dark Knight_ is close; it needs just a bit more work.”

“Should we standby for deployment?” Jannah asks.

“Yeah, I think that would be a good idea,” Han says. “In case Holdo needs backup. I’ll keep trying to call her back in.”

“Yes, sir,” four voices respond in unison instantly, and Poe, Finn, Jannah, and Zorii are hurrying out to the docking bays of their respective Jaegers. 

“Rose, I need you to resume working on the _Dark Knight_. We need every Jaeger functional.”

“Yes, sir,” Rose echoes, not in her usual chipper tone. She steals a glance at the screen showing the live feed from the _Reckoning_ before turning and heading out into the hangar. Rey, catching her eyes for a moment, finds herself staring into two dinner plates of fear. Kaydel follows Rose hesitantly, asking if she can be of use. 

Han stands there for a moment, looking decidedly uncomfortable with being addressed as “Sir,” before turning back to the issue at hand.

“Amilyn, just what are you trying to do here?” He demands.

“Neutralizing this threat,” Holdo snaps as she circles around behind the Kaiju and begins firing more incendiaries at its back, driving it back towards the breach and away from Hong Kong. “Where are Solana and Ren? I need their nuclear power. We need to close the breach.”

“Commander,” Bodhi says uncertainly, leaning forward, “I thought Kaydel said earlier that sending a nuke into the breach isn’t going to work—”

“If you have a better idea,” Holdo cuts in, “I’d love to hear it. But seeing as we don’t have any other ideas, and the end of the world is scheduled for tomorrow morning, I—”

<You will pay for this.>

That voice again. The strange, flat and colorless and unbearably heavy presence materializes in Rey’s mind, worse than the wordless, almost animalistic shrieks and roars of pain, and its weight is so unexpected and so immense that it knocks her off her feet. Beside her, Kylo’s hand gropes blindly for hers and they cling to each other. The _Reckoning_ ’s camera tilts forward dangerously; raucous ocean waves and the _Reckoning_ ’s own stumbling spiked feet fill the lens; Holdo’s vitals monitor beeps warningly. Her ragged cry sounds like something jagged being dragged out of her chest.

<You cannot stop what is to come.>

In the drone footage, the Kaiju can be seen standing stoically. It reaches toward the Shatterdome with its undamaged arm.

<You bring this upon yourself.>

Then, the Kaiju leans down, its head dipping below the clouds momentarily, its milky red eyes staring straight ahead, and it snatches the _Reckoning_ around the waist. Rey looks up at Holdo’s startled, garbled cry, and watches as the Kaiju straightens slowly, holding the Jaeger like a child would a doll. There’s a grating crunch of metal through Holdo’s mic, and the _Reckoning_ ’s camera feed cuts to static.

Han slams his good hand on the Shatterdome intercom mic. “ _Rising Tide_ and _Blitzkrieg_ , deploy now!” He shouts. Bodhi pops up from the ground to enter the initialization codes with shaking fingers into his terminal; he watches the Rangers’ vitals as the Jaegers rush through the barely-open hangar doors into the still-falling rain to the aid of their Commander, fighting the clanging of the Kaiju’s presence in their heads as they go.

The Kaiju crouches over the surface of the water, the _Reckoning_ flailing awkwardly in its claw, and with a loud snapping and creaking, its mile-long wings unfold, eclipsing much of the ocean water and some of the nearby land. Then, with a leap that Rey feels through the ground of the Shatterdome, it launches itself into flight.

“I thought the wings were for show,” Bodhi mutters as the dumbstruck room looks on.

The presence is still there in Rey’s mind, but lighter, somehow, as though some of the layers have peeled back as the Kaiju focuses on ascending. She watches, with mostly clear eyes, the incoming footage as a drone follows the Kaiju up heavenward, recording from a distance as the Kaiju pushes huge currents of air with each pump of its massive wings, breaking effortlessly through twisted spears of lightning and mountainous storm clouds and climbing higher and higher. Eventually, the drone gets caught in the wake turbulence of the Kaiju’s wings and spins out of control; the footage blurs unhelpfully on the screen.

“ _Blitzkrieg_ ,” Han yells into the mic, “ _Rising Tide_. Do you have a visual on the _Reckoning_?”

“We cannot see anything anymore,” Jannah yells back. 

“Ditto,” Finn adds; “heat tracking indicates that they’re flying directly up, but we can’t see them with the clouds and the rain.”

“Judging from the temperature of the _Reckoning_ ’s shell, the Kaiju is rapidly approaching the mesosphere,” Bodhi announces.

“Holdo,” Han says, grasping the mic with his good hand. “Amilyn, can you hear me?”

Holdo shouts something incoherent; the sound of metal groaning and of incendiary grenades being ejected from the _Reckoning_ ’s launcher bracket the clamor of her voice.

“Amilyn, whatever you do, don’t let go of the Kaiju,” Han instructs frantically. “There’s no way you’re coming back to Earth alive if you let go. And try not to struggle so hard; the _Reckoning_ isn’t pressurized. You’ll become oxygen-deprived very quickly—Amilyn, are you listening to me?”

Holdo snarls a “Fuck you!”—it’s not clear whom this is addressed to—and there’s the sound of an empty grenade launcher discharging. With another frustrated snarl, moistened slightly by the blood accumulating in her mouth and nose, Holdo activates her right flamethrower, then pumps another round out of her M202 FLASH.

“Commander,” Bodhi ventures, “you’re too far from the ground; your incendiary weapons won’t have enough oxygen to do damage.”

Holdo abandons her weapons and begins charging her Fists.

“Commander!” Rey shouts, pressing forward. “If you take the Kaiju out now, you’re going to fall—”

“I know what I’m doing,” Holdo shouts hoarsely, before slamming the Fists into either side of the Kaiju’s good arm. A second later, the Kaiju’s shriek of pain hits Holdo, slicing craggily through her mind like a shower of hail. The _Blitzkrieg_ and the _Rising Tide_ watch from the ground as the Kaiju, now a fist-sized blur in the sky, barely visible through the clouds, writhes in place. Holdo struggles to hold onto the Kaiju, scrabbling for purchase on the scaly, rubbery skin, fighting the building pressure in her lungs.

The Kaiju turns all of its attention to the _Reckoning_ then, searching through the layers of metal and fire until it finds Holdo’s mind.

<You will not see them again.>

“ _Fuck_ you,” Holdo snarls again, already recharging her Fists with one final charge.

<Your struggle is in vain.>

The Kaiju reaches for one of her Fists with its claw. Holdo jerks away, but the Kaiju’s claw manages to close around the Jaeger’s limb even with its mangled arm and its severely weakened grip, and simultaneously tightens its slackened grip around the _Reckoning_ ’s torso, curling some of its tentacles around the _Reckoning_ as well; Holdo’s surprised wheeze of pain stutters through the collapsing comm system.

“Commander?” Bodhi taps his hand against the side of the comm system. “Commander, we’re losing you.”

“Amilyn,” Han says helplessly, his hand white-knuckling around the base of the mic; he’s answered only with white static.

\---

Holdo’s cries are wordless and garbled; multiple warnings blare at her, warning her of a hull breach and a critically low supply of oxygen; the sight of Earth from this distance, where the horizon bows alarmingly and cities and structures look like mere insects, is distractingly frightening; and, as she struggles to marshall her thoughts, she feels the full weight and force of the Kaiju’s mind bend inward and converge on her. There’s a terrifying sense of disappearing, of everything under her skin being sucked away, and then its voice rings in her mind, louder and even more omnipresent than before.

<Your people will pay for your actions, Amilyn Holdo.>

Then, with a swift movement, it yanks on the _Reckoning_ ’s arm. The arm rips away from the body with a heartrending sound, and Holdo screams as the pain shoots through the neural interface to her own nervous system. The Kaiju relaxes its outspread wings and they begin to lose altitude; it releases its claw carelessly, and the _Reckoning_ ’s right arm is claimed by the Earth’s gravity, gaining speed as it falls. The Kaiju then reaches, almost leisurely, for another limb.

“No!” Holdo kicks and writhes like a mad thing, but the Kaiju grabs ahold of the _Reckoning_ ’s left leg and gives a similar yank, and the metal limb rips away as though it’s little more than papier-mâché. The Kaiju tosses the leg aside, and the leg races to join the arm.

“Stop!” Holdo screams.

<It is too late.>

By the time the Kaiju finishes dismembering the Jaeger, the Kaiju has descended to an altitude where the Shatterdome is visible beneath them, and Han’s voice begins to flicker in and out through the comm system.

“—in. Again, if you copy, Amilyn, please come in—”

“I’m here!” 

“Commander?” Finn’s disbelieving voice. Then, Jannah’s voice: “I see them! The Kaiju—it is returning to the water.”

Dizzy with pain and frustration and pure rage, Holdo barely registers when the Kaiju hits the surface of the water. The shouts of Han and the other Rangers, the clamoring alarms, and the unsympathetic crash of thunder and water fill her ears. Without any of its limbs, the _Reckoning_ can’t even throw a punch, much less use any of its incendiary weapons, and despite her continued struggling in her pilot rig, the _Reckoning_ ’s battered torso and helmet hang inert in the Kaiju’s grasp. She feels the oppressively heavy presence of the Kaiju in her mind lift, and the shouts and challenges of the Rangers break into gasps and choked breaths of pain.

“You leave them alone,” Holdo demands weakly, sweat and blood streaming intermingled down her face and neck, her arms and legs shaking with exertion; she isn’t sure if the blood pooling in her mouth is from her nose or her internal organs. The Kaiju continues its mental barrage on the other Rangers for a moment, unheeding. Then, without warning, the presence is back.

<You are tired. You should rest.>

“I’ll keep fighting until I die,” Holdo vows.

“Amilyn?” Han’s voice. Wrong, somehow. Distant.

<Din is calling you.>

For a moment, a bright red light of warning flashes in Holdo’s mind, lurid and loud. The Kaiju is lying; it has to be. Din’s been gone for years. She watched him die.

<It’s time to go home.>

The red light is snuffed out, and something like a hand reaches deep into her head where her memories and her emotions swirl in an unfathomable tangle, and rifles through the threads and images and snippets of sound, like silk flowing through silk, simultaneously soothing and disconcerting. When the hand emerges, someone stands before her in the chamber of the _Reckoning_ , drawn up from the depths of her mind like an old keepsake from a chest. Only she’s not in the _Reckoning_ anymore; she’s standing in the pilot chamber of the _Brawler_. 

And the someone isn’t just a someone.

Holdo stares into the face of her dead husband, overjoyed and aghast. She hasn’t seen a photo of him for a long time, and the details have been fading; and it has been so long since she’s seen him like this, his body real and solid before her, every detail, every crease, every hair and pore crystal clear. The warmth of his hand on her cheek, the rough brush of his slightly dehydrated lips against her mouth, the feel of his rough, carelessly cropped curls between her fingers.

“You’re here,” she sobs. “How are you here?”

<I’ve come for you.>

In the distance, the sound of metal tearing, and someone screaming.

“Am I done?” She says, unable to keep her words from quavering. But he smiles one of his rare smiles at her and brushes a calloused thumb along the bone of her cheek.

<Yes, my love. It’s time to rest.>

Rest. _Rest_. She closes her eyes at the word. She can’t remember a time when there was no fighting, when she could do anything without the threat of the Kaiju looming over her. Even her relationship with her husband was built on fighting the Kaiju, on shared pain and trauma and loss. She hates the bitterness of the admission, but she’s wanted to rest since this all began, since she first set foot in the _Brawler_. The coward’s way. Her eyes snap open, and she snarls.

<No.> He calls her attention back to himself firmly. <Never a coward.>

It’s almost too good to be true. It _is_ too good to be true. She leans into it, and a strange, numbing sense of relief washes over her, coating every nerve, every hair, in a honeyed shell. She’s bone tired. She can’t remember what all of this was about. What was she doing again? No. She has to get back—

Another brush of his hand, and her mind delves under again, deeper still. She sighs, and it’s the first breath she’s been conscious of taking ever since...ever since…

His hand, calloused and strong and so achingly familiar, closes gently around hers, and he gives her a gentle tug. She plummets from the edge of the pilot’s chamber, down, down towards the cerulean ocean water. She buries her face in his chest, too tired and too content to care that they’re falling. There’s a soundless impact, and then a sense of limbo, of weightlessness, as the ocean envelopes her, welcoming her home.

\---

Commander Holdo’s screaming turns to muttering, and then her muttering goes silent all of a sudden, too silent. Han stares at the remaining camera footage; the Kaiju is holding the remains of the _Reckoning_ with an odd gentleness—cradling it, even—and staring down intently at it, seemingly unaffected by the attacks of the _Blitzkrieg_ and the _Rising Tide_. Poe and Finn are shouting, Jannah and Zorii are shouting, Rey and Kylo and Bodhi shouting—but Commander Holdo is silent.

“No,” Han breathes.

Slowly, the Kaiju sinks its claws into the remains of the _Reckoning_ and pulls the metallic body apart with a single, smooth motion; the metal shreds, yielding like butter. The Kaiju drops its hands, and chunks of metal and debris fall into the ocean before it. Holdo isn’t visible, but there is no doubt that the ocean has also claimed her body.

The command center is deathly silent. When Han looks up, all eyes in the room are trained on him.

_I’m not the right one for this._

Before he can shake off the thought, the ground bucks beneath his feet, throwing him off balance. The groaning of earthen crust and rock being rent apart cuts through the thick metal and concrete shell of the Shatterdome, and is unlike anything the people in the room have heard before. 

Han’s eyes snap back to the screens; the Kaiju is bent forward, its claws sunk deep into the shores of Sai Kung. It drags its claws slowly through the earth, and the land itself begins to slide into the sea, avalanches of dirt and rock and infrastructure. The Kaiju raises its arm over its head and slams it down again, this time into Hong Kong Island itself, its claws digging deep into the ground; with a raking motion, it again scoops large swaths of land and infrastructure into the ocean, sending showers of splintering glass and torn metal and chunks of concrete and cars and people—screaming, terrified _people_ —flying into the water.

Rey glances up at Kylo as the _Blitzkrieg_ and the _Rising Tide_ rush to drive the Kaiju back. By all appearances, the apocalypse has officially begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	23. Chapter 23

“Rey? Kylo?” 

At the sound of Rose’s voice, Rey rockets to her feet. Kylo, pacing back and forth beside her in the narrow space in the back of the command center, snaps his head up, the muscles around his mouth and eyes pulled taut with restless need. The ground shakes beneath them yet again; no one knows whether it’s from the Kaiju tearing up Hong Kong or the Kaiju attacking a Jaeger; it no longer makes a difference.

“Your Jaeger is ready to go,” Rose says, her voice hollow and flat. Han looks up from the front of the room and stumps over.

“I’ll need you two to deploy alongside the _Rising Tide_ and the _Blitzkrieg_ immediately,” he says to Kylo and Rey as he approaches; they nod in agreement.

Han’s eyes shift to Kylo. “I…”

Rey looks away quickly, skittering back a self-conscious step; Kylo glances at her desperately. 

But Han beckons her back. “No,” he says gently. “Come back, just for a sec. Then I’ll let you two go.” 

Rey steps uncertainly up next to Kylo, her eyes on her boots.

“I’m no good with words,” Han says bluntly. “But I know very well that every time you two step into a Jaeger, it could be the last time I see you. I can’t let you two go this time without saying... _something_.” 

Rey looks up at Han; Kylo looks away, his eyes steely and aloof, as usual.

“Rey, I know I never got to know you, and Kylo...I know I’ve missed out on a lot of your life, too. But for what it’s worth, I care about you two.”

He looks at Kylo, hesitantly planting his good hand on Kylo’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Han says, his voice gravelly, his words heavy on his tongue. “I always have, even when I couldn’t find a way to express it. For God’s sake, please try to make it back alive.”

Kylo’s eyes inch back to his father’s face, taking in first the wrinkled brow, the sun-weathered cheeks, the determined mouth; he looks up for a moment into his father’s eyes. He thinks of Leia. And tentatively, he raises his hand to clasp his father’s arm. 

Then, abruptly, he turns on his heel and strides out of the command center. Rey gives Han an uncertain smile, nods once, and hurries after Kylo.

\---

There’s something off, Rey can feel it. But for once, the disturbance isn’t coming from Kylo. 

She casts a sidelong glance at Rose, who is busy fastening her into her pilot rig—the deployment crews have also suffered desertions. Kaydel, helping Kylo into his rig, sneaks a glance at Rose, and quickly looks away, obviously discomfited; she hustles out of the chamber as soon as she’s done.

“Rose,” Kylo says, noticing the ripples as well. “Is something wrong?”

“What?” She looks up at him, then at Rey, frowning. Her brown eyes, usually sparkling with an unquenchable hope, are distressingly flat. 

“Rose?” Rey echoes Kylo, a sense of dread overcoming her.

“It’s nothing,” Rose reassures them, lifting her hands in a placating manner. “I’m just tired, is all.”

“Everything is going to be all right,” Kylo says. Then, to Rey’s astonishment, Rose’s eyes fill up with a sudden rage.

“You don’t even believe that yourself,” she snaps at Kylo. “How can you say that to me? Our Commander went insane and got herself killed; the UN is useless; no countries are coming to our aid. And we don’t even know what’s going to come out of the breach next. What do you expect me to feel?”

Rose turns away and wipes angrily at her eyes. Rey moves to unfasten herself from her rig, but Rose holds up a hand to stop her.

“No,” she sniffles, immediately calming down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean all of that.”

“It’s okay,” Rey says. “We feel the same way.”

“I’m running out of reasons to fight,” Rose confides; her words are chilling, both in their depth of hopelessness and in their relatability. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

“The rest of the world is relying on us. We need to be strong for them. There isn’t anyone else standing between them and the breach.”

“I know,” Rose says quietly. “I know.”

There’s a long, tense silence in the chamber. 

“LOCCENT to _Dark Knight_ ,” Han’s voice blares through the comm. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Rose responds instantly. “Just need to debrief the Rangers on some modifications.”

“Copy that,” Han replies. “Make it quick; the other two are wearing down fast.”

“Modifications?” Rey gapes at Rose. “When did you have the time for that?”

“Just two things. I’ve been working on the plans for a long time, but our brief re-commissioning by the UN made it possible to build them. The first thing,” Rose says, reaching over and scrolling through Rey’s console, “is the nuclear reactor. I’ve converted it into an atomic bomb with a manual trigger, which both of you can access through your consoles. I’ve also installed a salted nuclear bomb in a compartment in your helmet, also controllable through your consoles. A salted nuke is designed to maximize the radius of radioactive fallout and render a large area uninhabitable for a long period of time.”

“I…” Rey trails off, aghast. “Two nukes? How did you manage…?”

“I’ve been busy. But I’m done now,” Rose says, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is the final battle. After this, however things turn out, you won’t need the Jaegers repaired anymore.”

“You don’t know that,” Rey says desperately. Rose gives her a long, withering look, and makes to turn for the exit.

“Wait.” Kylo points up at the text freshly hammered into the metal plaque on the ceiling. Rey looks up, and frowns.

“Why did you rename the _Dark Knight_?” Kylo asks, turning to look at Rose. She looks between the two Rangers, her lower lip between her teeth.

“It’s fitting,” she finally mutters. “Everything about this whole Kaiju situation has just been a series of black swan events since day one. The first Kaiju, all the way through the one that’s tearing up Hong Kong right now. The first Jaeger, and every one after that, too. And now, we’re sending you into the final battle, equipped not only with one nuke, but with two…”

Her eyes trail back up to the name. “It’s fitting,” she repeats, before turning to go. As Rey and Kylo look at each other, bewildered, Rose steps into the lift and waits patiently for it to deposit her on the deck. She walks slowly but purposefully across the hangar, towards the exit.

\---

As Rey and Kylo approach the Kaiju and the other two Jaegers, Rey feels the Kaiju’s awareness of them flare in the back of her mind. She has a moment to brace herself before its presence begins to encroach on her mind in earnest. 

“ _Blitzkrieg_ to _Dark Knight_ —er, is that you?” Finn asks through the comm. “For some reason you’re registering as the...the _Black Swan_.”

“Yeah,” Rey says, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. “Rose rechristened the _Dark Knight_.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know,” Kylo says shortly. “We’ve got other problems to focus on right now.”

“Is Rose okay?” Finn presses. “Something was off when I last—”

“No time!” Jannah cuts in, her voice heavy with strain. “This thing is really giving Zorii and me a mental lashing. We would appreciate it if you could help us out.”

“We think that the Kaiju isn’t able to focus on more than one task at a time,” Poe says, managing to sound cheery despite the circumstances. “It can’t fight both of us physically _and_ mentally; whenever one of us distracts it with rapidfire attacks, it loosens up its crazy mind pokey-pokey on the other. So the more of us there are to distract it, the better chance we have at taking it down.”

Rey and Kylo wordlessly begin charging their plasmacasters.

\---

The rest of the battle is a blur to Rey, partly because her mind is constantly reeling from sifting through Kylo’s and the Kaiju’s tumultuous mental presences, and partly because whenever the Kaiju is focusing on the _Black Swan_ in particular, images of Unkar surface, and her fear and self-doubt seem to triple in intensity. With her helmet on and her arms hooked up to the rig, she isn’t able to wipe the tears from her eyes every time they overflow. She finds herself teetering on the edge over and over again, her treacherous emotions drawing her closer and closer to the mouth of the abyss. She can feel Kylo being affected in the same way, struggling against the Kaiju and himself, trying to not let the memories of death and loneliness drag him backwards into the depths of his own mind.

At this point, even with three Jaegers harassing it, the Kaiju has managed to claw away much of Hong Kong’s shores, and is reaching further and further inland, pushing huge swaths of land into the ocean with a methodical focus.

“If only we still had the _Phantom_ ,” Kylo gripes; his presence in the drift is troubled and distracted, and their bond is shot through with images of Unkar and Ben. “If only we still had the _Phantom_ , we could at least throw some waves at it and confuse it.”

“There’s got to be a way to knock this thing’s head loose,” Poe replies; surprisingly, or perhaps not too surprisingly, Poe has withstood the Kaiju’s mental barrages fairly well.

“Would hitting it hard on the head do anything, do you think?” Rey says, half-sarcastically.

“Its head is literally above the clouds right now,” Zorii deadpans.

“Not always,” Finn points out. “When it bends down to claw up land, its head is a bit closer.”

“But not by a whole lot,” Poe sighs.

“No,” Finn concedes, before groaning; his mental strain is almost palpable through the comm system.

“Maybe we can knock it over so that its head is within reach?” Poe suggests.

“What the hell do you think we’ve been trying to do—make it dance?” Finn exclaims.

“We’ve just been tag-teaming distraction tactics,” Kylo says. “Maybe if we can coordinate something heavy enough, we can actually knock it over.”

“Suggestions?”

The _Rising Tide_ leaps in to take its turn drawing the Kaiju’s attention, and Rey and Kylo draw back and stare up at the Kaiju for a moment, their minds swirling together as the foreign presence withdraws. For a moment, she's reminded of their more tranquil drift simulations, and the tilting horizon of ocean and sky flashes before her eyes as her mind clears and her heart calms.

“We can probably reach its knees, can’t we,” she muses. 

Kylo’s thoughts well up around hers. “Twin back-of-knee strikes,” he says.

“Then someone can take it down the rest of the way,” Poe says; his grin is almost audible. “It _is_ a pretty top-heavy beastie. Could work.”

“ _Blitzkrieg_ , you take its right knee, and we’ll take the left? And _Rising Tide_ , it’ll be up to you to clock it afterward.”

“Yes,” Zorii replies, her voice strained. “Let’s make this quick.”

The rainfall, still unrelenting, makes it difficult to see, but the _Black Swan_ and the _Blitzkrieg_ manage to get into position and, with a collective shout, the two Jaegers loose attacks aimed at the backs of the Kaiju’s legs. To their consternation, the Kaiju barely seems to notice, and swipes a claw at the _Rising Tide_ , which is still drawing most of its attention.

“Again!” Finn shouts. The _Blitzkrieg_ presses forward, arming a round of more powerful explosives; the _Black Swan_ follows suit, and, with both plasmacasters now charged, takes aim. That seems to do something; the Kaiju staggers forward. Before either of them can react, Rey feels the Kaiju overwhelm her and Kylo again in the drift, its presence sudden and debilitating.

“One more, while it’s off balance,” Poe shouts; he and Finn aim everything they’ve got. Rey and Kylo, gritting their teeth against the sudden headaches splitting their skulls, barely able to focus on the task at hand, ready their plasmacasters and arm a few smaller heat-trackers for good measure. On Poe’s count, they fire with everything they’ve got, shouting with exertion, and the Kaiju, too slow to evade the attack, stumbles forward and lands heavily on its knees, sending ocean water fanning through the air; the three Jaegers are nearly thrown off their feet as the earth pulses from the impact.

“ _Rising Tide_!” Kylo shouts into the mic.

“Brace!” Jannah responds, and the _Blitzkrieg_ and the _Black Swan_ scramble back as the _Rising Tide_ jets between them, launching itself into the air with its aquathrusters. The Kaiju lashes out with one last, almost desperate mental attack, and Rey feels as though the air in the chamber has been sucked out; her vision goes white. Han shouts something through the comm, but she isn’t able to hear his words over the pounding of blood in her ears. The Kaiju unleashes another blistering roar, and the force of it squeezes out all of her other senses.

Then, utter silence, as though the Kaiju has simply disappeared from her mind. Rey’s head reels madly; she leans heavily against her rig, unable to stand on her own. As her vision clears, she looks over at Kylo, who seems similarly affected; she then hazards a glance out to where the Kaiju had been a moment ago.

Beside them, the _Blitzkrieg_ is struggling back to its feet. Before them, half-submerged by the ocean, lies the Kaiju. Its red eyes are peeled wide open; it stirs once, and is still.

“Dead?” Poe says hopefully.

“Not quite,” Rey says, flipping through her console. “I’m reading life signs, but they’re faint. We need to finish the job.” Kylo, in silent agreement, begins charging his plasmacaster.

“ _Rising Tide_ to...to everyone else,” Jannah cuts in, her voice frantic; the _Rising Tide_ lies a mere few feet away from the Kaiju, motionless. “Zorii is not responding. I do not think she had time to brace before we hit the Kaiju, or maybe her rig was damaged; I cannot tell.”

“Did you guys bodyslam the Kaiju?” Finn demands, aghast.

“We used our aquathrusters to cannonball ourselves into the back of its neck. We do not have any conventional weapons,” she replies, a bit defensively. “But—Zorii—Zorii?” She leans away from the mic, trying to rouse her copilot.

“Her vitals don’t look good,” Bodhi says nervously. “I’ll scrape together a med team, but we don’t have enough crew to get a chopper to your position.”

“We’ll come get you,” Finn says. “ _Black Swan_?”

“Yep.” Rey and Kylo turn towards the Kaiju and march as quickly as they can through the water, brandishing Kylo’s now-charged plasmacaster. The Kaiju begins to stir, and the _Black Swan_ quickens its pace.

Unexpectedly, Commander Holdo’s thin lips and piercing eyes appear in Rey’s mind, and she falters; there’s a pause, and the face melts into Unkar’s sneer; a spin, and Ben’s there, his gaze silently pleading. Even in its barely-conscious state, the Kaiju is reaching into her and Kylo’s minds, pulling at the threads of their emotional weaknesses. Ben’s face melts, bubbling revoltingly before materializing into Leia, her sneer like a knife in the gut.

“No,” Kylo mutters; Rey reaches through the drift for him. Together, they arrive at the Kaiju’s head; together, they aim the plasmacaster.

And together, they empty the clip in the side of the Kaiju’s neck. As Kaiju blue splashes thickly through the air and spills out into the ocean, the faces slowly fade away.

\---

“The breach,” Rey intones as they stand by the decapitated mess of the Kaiju’s body. In the distance, the _Blitzkrieg_ is clipping back toward the Shatterdome, Jannah and a still-unconscious Zorii strapped somewhere in the pilot’s chamber; behind them, the _Rising Tide_ lies beside the Kaiju, lifeless and dim.

“Yes,” Kylo agrees. “Something needs to be done about that.”

Wordlessly, the _Black Swan_ bends down and grabs hold of a tentacle before turning and walking towards the breach.

“ _Black Swan_ to LOCCENT,” Kylo hails the Shatterdome. “I don’t think we can afford to wait any longer on dealing with the breach. We’re going to head out and...see what we can do.”

“You don’t need to ask me for permission,” Han responds, his voice thin with exhaustion. “I’m not in charge here; was never meant to be, and never will. Do what you will.”

“Wish us luck.”

“Good luck,” he replies distantly, as though he’s only talking to ghosts.

\---

“Are we sealed up?”

“Yep, just.”

“Okay. Going under.”

The _Black Swan_ ventures forward, pushing through another few feet of water before it’s completely submerged. They continue walking for what feels like an eternity, dragging the Kaiju’s head along. The water around them is, after all the turmoil with the Kaiju, surprisingly tranquil; the deep blues and subtle grays are soothing, almost dream-like; and the profound silence of the underwater world almost makes Rey forget that their Commander is somewhere down here, body still fresh.

She blinks once, hard, and steals a glance at Kylo. He looks over at her as they struggle against the pressure of the water.

“Were you able to make out what Commander Holdo was saying before she died?” Kylo finally asks, pulling his gaze away.

“No,” Rey murmurs. “Were you?”

“A little.”

“What did she say?”

“She said that...she was tired. That she was ready to let go.”

They march on, doggedly, mindlessly, numbly.

_Why do the people we need most always leave us?_ The question echoes in the drift until Rey is no longer able to tell who asked it first.

\---

They stand over the tightly-closed seam of rock and sediment that runs about a mile long, scanning the surrounding area with the floodlight embedded in the _Black Swan_ ’s chest and with their consoles. From all appearances, the breach seems like a perfectly innocuous imperfection in the ocean floor, and certainly not like a gateway into a hostile world from which monstrous Kaiju have issued forth. Some kind of sea creature scuttles across the seam, hurrying out of the way; in the distant semidarkness, a school of fish flutters through the water like a tattered banner, in perfect mindless unison. The _Black Swan_ takes another faltering step, and Rey and Kylo are suddenly unsure of what to do.

“What the hell do we do now?” Kylo mutters.

“I dunno,” Han says over the comm. “Show’em the head, maybe?”

Rey swings the Kaiju head, still trailing beads of Kaiju blue, around them, and it settles down on the seam of the breach.

“You said you would accept an audience,” Rey says to no one in particular. “Well, we demand an audience.”

A pinprick of pale blue light peeks through the rocky seam.

<I WOULD ACCEPT A PEACEFUL ONE.>

The new presence floods her mind a moment after she sees the unearthly blue light, hears the voiceless words.

The Cat-6 Emissary Kaiju’s mental presence was clearly meant to evoke fear and helplessness, but she doesn't sense quite the same intention in this new presence; instead, she feels as though she has simply ceased to exist, as though someone has built a black box around her mind and closed her off from the rest of the world; she feels completely and utterly naked, kenneled, ground to dust; all of her senses are blotted out immediately. She realizes with a start that she can’t feel her body. Even Kylo’s presence in the drift is snuffed out from her mind. All that’s left is a black emptiness, and a monumental, featureless voice.

<YOU HAVE KILLED MY EMISSARY. AN ACT OF WAR.>

“A war that you started,” Kylo counters, his voice a distant, disembodied whisper. “And how do we know that your ‘Emissary’ didn’t manipulate our Commander into losing her mind and making the first move?”

“What?” Han demands, genuinely confused.

<YOU ACCUSE ME OF UNDERMINING MY OWN AGREEMENT.>

“You’re trying to exterminate us like animals.” Rey tries responding, and her words seem to be sucked out of her into the vacuum of the darkness. “How can we trust you with anything?”

“We demand the right to contest your actions, your crimes against humanity,” Kylo adds. 

<AN AUDIENCE, THEN. BUT YOUR FATES ARE SEALED.>

“Guys? Do you read me? LOCCENT to _Black Swan_. Do you read?”

Neither Rey nor Kylo are able to respond; the terrible voice withdraws from their minds, and the presence withdraws enough for them to regain their senses, but something invisible holds the _Black Swan_ and everything in it, down to the hairs on the backs of their necks, immobile. With their arms and legs forcibly held stiff and their faces wrenched forward by an invisible grip, Rey and Kylo watch as the breach cracks open like the leering mouth of another Kaiju, as the lifeless head of the Emissary Kaiju sinks before them into the opening, and as the unnatural blue light reaches out of the breach in tendrils and draws them in.

\---

“We’ve lost contact,” Bodhi announces nervously, flipping through his console. “They’re not showing up on the tracker anymore, and I can’t get any data from them, not even the _Black Swan_ ’s heartbeat pings. They’ve… They’ve gone in.”

In the back of the command center, Kaydel, Finn, Poe, and Jannah huddle in the corner of the room, watching with wide eyes and listening silently. In the front of the room, Han, staring blankly out into the hangar, spares Bodhi a glance.

“Well,” he mutters before turning away. “Nothing we can do but wait, and be ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to the end; two more chapters to gooo!
> 
> Also, happy Labor Day weekend to all US readers! To all non-US readers...er, have a great weekend! <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heigh-ho, into the breach we gooo~

Rey frantically casts out a line, groping blindly for a presence, any presence, and it’s a relief when she feels Kylo. Their bodies are still held fast against their will, but his tumultuous thoughts curl around hers, mirroring her fear and relief. As the _Black Swan_ continues to descend in the tunnel of the breach, the otherworldly blue light fades rapidly to darkness, and for several long moments, Rey isn’t sure that they’re still descending. But as she and Kylo look on, slender stalagmites of weak, sterile light begin to penetrate the darkness slowly, and the textured, organic walls of the breach, unfamiliar to Rey, presently come into view, gliding silently upwards as the _Black Swan_ continues to sink. 

Below them, the head of the Emissary Kaiju is torn apart as though by invisible scalpels, and the shredded pieces of flesh and skeletal structure are absorbed rapidly into the wall of the breach, melding seamlessly with the material of the wall.

As they descend further, the light grows in intensity, and by the time the _Black Swan_ comes to a stop in some kind of isolation chamber at the end of the breach, the viscous “air” that surrounds them is suffused with a still-weak, but mostly serviceable, fluorescent light. 

There’s a long pause, and then the walls of the chamber slide down silently. Then, suddenly, the _Black Swan_ begins to groan, and before Rey can so much as blink, the discrete parts of the Jaeger detach from each other, from the metal-encased nuclear reactor core down to the screws and washers holding the plates of steel and fiber reinforced plastic in place, and hang motionless in the air in a spherical, deconstructed arrangement, like some kind of mechanical halo. Rey and Kylo, still in their Ranger gear, find themselves ripped out of the drift and suspended in the air at the center of the deconstructed the _Black Swan_ , suddenly exposed to the alien air.

Rey sucks in a sharp breath at the impossible sight, before she remembers—too late—that her suit is not airtight. She struggles in vain against the invisible bonds that hold her, choking as the air in her suit rapidly depletes, and Kylo, held motionless beside her, is unable to lift a finger or even turn his head.

But before the panic truly gives way to suffocation, something latches onto her back and tugs, gently but insistently, on the back of her suit. There’s a slight crinkle of fabric, and Rey feels gentle pressure spreading from the center of her back over the rest of her body. From the corner of her eye, she watches as an unfamiliar black material crawls over her body, like melted chocolate encasing a helpless piece of fruit, encompassing more and more of her suit until she’s completely covered. Then, impossibly, the portion of the material covering her helmet visor peels back, allowing her to see again, and she hears the telltale hiss of oxygen moments before the pressure in her chest begins to ease.

Air? Rey glances around herself, utterly confused. Whatever the black substance is seems to be providing her with oxygen through her Ranger suit, allowing her to breathe comfortably. The floor tilts toward her then, and before she knows it, she’s being lowered onto her feet. She takes a staggering step, almost buckling at the knees, when the vice-like grip that had been holding her immobile abruptly vanishes; beside her, Kylo, who is also covered in the strange black substance, hits the ground with similar gracelessness. Rey reaches for him without thinking, and they stand there, propped up against each other, panting for breath, taking in their surroundings.

The weak fluorescent light that just barely illuminates the Jaeger comes from a grid of rods glowing brightly, far above their heads; the rest of the room, including the ceiling, which seems to vault high above the lights, is pitch black.

Rey glances back at the _Black Swan_ , which is slowly being reassembled by what she assumes is the same mysterious force that deconstructed it, and at the dark gray-blue matte surface of the chamber platform on which the _Black Swan_ had arrived. Above the platform, a protrusion of organic matter that can only be the entrance of the breach juts low, almost low enough to brush the helmet of the Jaeger; the mass hisses, contracting and expanding, almost like a living being.

There’s a strange clanging sound, far out in the unlit part of the room; Rey and Kylo turn immediately towards it. Weak points of white light flicker on along the ground, revealing a wide hallway of some kind. The walls, featureless and dark gray-blue matte as well, stretch far up above the reach of the lights; the ceiling of the room, if there is one, remains concealed in darkness. At the end of the hallway, something like a doorway opens, multiple layers of a shapeshifting substance similar to the one currently keeping Rey and Kylo alive separating and peeling away soundlessly from the opening in the wall.

There’s no movement for a long stretch of silence. Finally, the lights affixed above the _Black Swan_ flicker out abruptly, leaving the Jaeger and the breach cloaked in darkness; Rey and Kylo inadvertently take a step away from the unsettling darkness behind them, towards the doorway. As they make their way towards the door, the lights closest to them also flicker out, urging them on.

“We’re meant to follow the lights,” Rey realizes.

“Let’s not keep them waiting, then,” Kylo says in a low voice, taking one of Rey’s hands in his own; she’s barely able to feel his grip through the gloves of their suits and the black substance, but takes comfort in the sight of his larger hand folding around hers; and they press on.

\---

Something about the viscosity of the air interferes with Rey’s sense of time; or perhaps the course of time runs differently here, in this alien world; she isn’t sure. She and Kylo walk slowly down the hallway, following the lights that flicker on along the smooth, featureless floor, and trying not to look back as the lights flicker out behind them. She loses track of the number of steps they’ve taken, the number of turns they've rounded; still, they push on, down the seemingly endless path, trying to keep their steps as quiet as possible in the unnerving silence. 

At one point, the curved wall on their right side gives way to a closed doorway, and Kylo, despite his better judgement, presses a hand hesitantly against the smooth surface of the door. Without warning, the door peels back, and they watch with fearful fascination the mechanics of the door before directing their attention into the chamber.

Rey hisses his name, but he takes one slow step, then another, into the chamber, disappearing into its darkness. Rey glances up and down the hallway nervously, and, not seeing anyone or hearing anything, hurries in after Kylo.

She bumps into his back and tries to step around him, sputtering, but he thrusts out an arm to keep her back. She looks into the room, and up, and up, and further up still, and sees why.

The unoccupied strip of floor before them is long and narrow. On either side of the pathway stand rows and rows of what appear to be cylindrical suspension chambers, made of glass-like material, with dim lights surrounding their bases and console screens embedded into their sides. The chambers are _massive_ ; the two closest to the door are hundreds of meters in diameter, and the tops of the chambers, like the ceiling of the room, are shrouded in darkness, unpenetrated by the weak lights lining the pedestals.

Rey presses her hand urgently into Kylo’s arm after a moment, and points at the chamber to their right. The upper part of the thing that is floating in the chamber is not visible, but its four-toed, bird-like claws, hanging motionless in the suspension liquid, large enough to snatch up semi trucks with ease, and its long, reptilian tail are just visible in the low light.

“That looks like the Kaiju that killed Quinlan Vos,” Rey whispers.

“And further down,” Kylo murmurs, pointing at a chamber deeper in the eerily-silent, yawning room, even larger than the one in front of them; Rey spies a cluster of gray-skinned, elongated legs with obsidian scythe-like claws, powerful muscles currently slack, the knife-sharp bone protruding from its darkness-obscured head glowing a faint blue. “The six-legged Kaiju that killed Baze and Chirrut.”

Somewhere in here, Rey realizes, clones of the Kaiju that killed Paige could be in stasis; even further down, clones of the the ones that killed Jyn and Cassian, Luke and Leia, Holdo; and perhaps even further down, Kaiju that have yet to appear on Earth, waiting patiently for their turns. With a shudder, she turns away, tugging on Kylo’s arm.

“Come on,” she urges; Kylo, staring intently down the hallway, realizing that the Kaiju that killed Ben could also be here, doesn’t budge.

“It won’t do any good to see that one again,” Rey says in a low voice.

“I know,” he mutters, his grimace evident in his voice. They stand for a long moment, Kylo pulling ever so slightly against Rey’s restraining grip. Finally, he turns away from the room full of Kaiju and steps after Rey out of the room. Behind them, the door folds in on itself until the circular opening is covered. Kylo inhales shakily, and Rey looks up at him, and in her luminous, concerned, firm gaze, he anchors himself.

They turn and continue down the hallway.

\---

As they continue walking, Rey has the distinct feeling that they’re straying further and further from everything they know. Her body remains unharmed, and her suit and the mysterious black material stretched over it remain firmly intact, but as they near whatever it is they’re walking towards, it’s almost as though they’re leaving behind their memories, their emotions, even time itself. It’s a strange notion, crazy even, but terrifying.

“Do you feel it?” She murmurs to Kylo.

“Yes,” he murmurs back. He presses her closer to his side, his arm looped securely around her shoulders; she, in turn, tightens her slender arm around his ribs. She's thankful that she isn't doing this alone.

Presently, a pinprick of light appears in the distance. As the floor lights illuminate their steps, leading them along, they find themselves drawing closer and closer to the light. Above them, the ceiling, visible for the first time, slopes down from its lofty shrouded heights towards the light; the curved walls around them funnel in, rushing to meet the ceiling; the floor lights curve upward slightly to meet the round doorway; and suddenly, they’ve reached the light.

They glance at each other, before stepping slowly through the opening.

There’s a few heart-pounding moments where Rey can’t see a thing; her eyes are so overwhelmed by the golden sun-bright light that, for a moment, she registers neither the faint, harp-like buzzing in the air nor the sudden wave of warmth that envelopes her. As her eyes slowly adjust, she becomes aware of Kylo’s hand grasping hers, of the ground under her feet; a few moments later, and she’s able to make out, beneath the buzzing in the air, the whisper of water lapping placidly at sand; and, as the room comes into focus, she’s able to see a line of shapes sitting a small distance away, emitting the blinding light that she and Kylo had seen from the hallway.

Unable to rub her eyes, she settles for blinking rapidly as she takes in her surroundings. She finds herself standing on a patch of bone-white sand, just barely submerged under a thin film of jewellike ocean water. She looks up slowly, watching as the patch of submerged, water-hardened sand turns into a pathway, short and narrow, which leads to another larger patch of sand that protrudes through the surface of the water. The water laps diminutively at the edges of the island, pushing and pulling at the sand with childlike foamy fingers.

She drags her gaze up from the calming sight. On the island, surrounded by a small grove of tall, straight, tree-like plants with wide-spreading branches and fan-like leaves of musky sage green, a low table is planted firmly into the sand. On the table is arranged a sumptuous abundance of what appear to be fruits, vegetables, flowers, gourds... None of the produce or flowers look familiar to Rey; the colors, textures, and shapes are all exotic, utterly unfamiliar, and yet voluptuous, ripe, pleasantly colorful, enticing. The air is thick and pleasantly aromatic, with a heady golden tinge, like honey; and in the distance, the horizon line separating the deep cobalt-blue sky from the turquoise-cerulean ocean water stretches out into perfect, tranquil infinity. 

Rey drags her gaze away and squints as she scrutinizes the six brightly-glowing figures seated at the table. The six vary greatly in physical stature and shape; some are human-like, with two arms, two legs, and what may qualify as a head, seated gracefully at the table; others resemble beasts more than humans, with any number of limbs, strangely-textured skin, jarringly-unfamiliar silhouettes. One figure at the far end of the table, floating slightly above the surface of the sand, is no larger than a toddler, its limbs short and fluid, its skin semi-translucent. All six have airy white fabrics draped over their heads, veiling their supposed faces; all six emit an unearthly glow that stings Rey’s eyes.

A voice echoes in her mind, clanging close behind her eyeballs, and she realizes that the voice is the same as the one that spoke to her and Kylo on the other side of the breach, and that it is, in fact, a composite of multiple voices, speaking in perfect unison, conveying the same thoughts, the same flat emotionlessness, the same sharp precision.

<I AM THE JUDGE. STATE YOUR CASE.>

“ _The_ Judge?” Kylo says, speaking out loud on instinct, a puzzled frown pinching his brow. “There are six of you.”

The figures at the table remain motionless as the voice, louder and more overwhelming than ever, responds.

<MY VESSELS ARE MANY, BUT MY MIND IS ONE. I AM THE JUDGE. STATE YOUR CASE.>

“We want to know,” Rey quavers, before pausing, clearing her throat, re-planting her feet, and beginning again: “We want to know what your justification is for wiping out humans.”

<IT IS AS I EXPLAINED TO YOUR SCIENTIST. I HAVE OBSERVED HUMANITY FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS. ALTHOUGH YOUR KIND IS AN INVENTIVE, DYNAMIC ONE, IT HAS PROVEN, TIME AND TIME AGAIN, THAT IT IS ALSO A FUNDAMENTALLY SELFISH AND DESTRUCTIVE ONE. EVERY GENERATION IS MORE DEPRAVED THAN THE LAST. HUMANS HAVE BECOME A SICKNESS, AN INFECTION THAT NEEDS TO BE SCOURGED. BUT TAKE HEART; I WILL WIPE THE EARTH CLEAN AND GRANT IT REST. I WILL RAISE A NEW SPECIES, ONE THAT IS BETTER THAN HUMANS IN EVERY WAY.>

Rey and Kylo are silent for a long moment, unsure of how to respond to the Judge's words. Although the six figures at the table have not stirred an inch, Rey gets the sense that they're waiting for an answer, curious as to what she and Kylo might try to do.

And what are her options, really? They stand in the Judge's domain, subject to the Judge's good will; and nothing that the Judge has accused humanity of, both here and through Kaydel, has been entirely invalid.

“We concede,” Kylo says slowly, “that humanity isn’t perfect.” He shifts from foot to foot, as though unsure of what to say.

“Give us more time,” Rey blurts. “We’ll go back to Earth and relay your message to everyone. We’ll tell everyone that we need to do better.”

<THEY WILL TREAT YOU AS THEY TREATED YOUR SCIENTIST. THEY WILL TREAT YOU AS YOU TREATED MY EMISSARY. DO YOU DOUBT IT? HUMANITY HAS SHOWN THAT WHILE ITS KNOWLEDGE EXPANDS, ITS SENSE OF JUSTICE AND MORALITY MERELY WAXES AND WANES, AND ITS REACTION TO THINGS UNKNOWN REMAIN PRIMARILY MISTRUST, DENIAL, VIOLENCE. I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT HUMANITY WOULD CHANGE AND GROW, EVEN IF I GRANT IT MORE TIME.>

“That’s not fair,” Rey insists, not caring about the childishness of her words. “You can’t know without trying.”

<HAVE NOT MANY TRIED? YOUR HISTORY IS RIDDLED WITH PROPHETS AND SAVIORS, SCHOLARS AND TEACHERS, HOLY MEN AND MORALISTS. BRIGHT LIGHTS IN THE DARKNESS. BUT THEIR LIGHT FAILED TO SPREAD, AND YOU REMAIN A PEOPLE IN THE DARK.>

“We concede,” Kylo repeats, “that we are fundamentally flawed. But, please...one more chance. Just one more chance. It can’t be that everyone remaining on Earth deserves to die. Or, at least allow us the dignity of self-destruction, rather than being exterminated like animals.”

<I HAVE NEVER BEEN A MERCIFUL BEING, NOR WILL I BE MERCIFUL NOW. YOUR JUDICIAL SYSTEMS, YOUR HISTORY BOOKS, YOUR POLITICAL CAMPAIGNS AFFORD LITTLE MERCY, AND RARELY DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN THE INNOCENT AND THE GUILTY. YOU LOCK FOREIGN CHILDREN IN CAGES; YOU USE THE UNDERPRIVILEGED FOR SELFISH GAIN; YOU PLACE ENTIRE COUNTRIES OF PEOPLE UNDER OPPRESSIVE FORMS OF GOVERNMENT. WHY SHOULD I GRANT YOU WHAT YOUR OWN KIND DOES NOT GRANT ITSELF? YOU BEHAVE LIKE ANIMALS, AND SO LIKE ANIMALS YOU WILL BE SLAUGHTERED.>

Rey feels sick to her stomach, and despite herself, tears collect at the corners of her eyes and spill down her cheeks. She's so tired of crying. Kylo’s grip tightens on her hand.

<DO YOU SHED THOSE TEARS FOR HUMANITY?> The Judge's voice goes unexpectedly soft. <IS IT NOT CRUELLY POETIC THAT THE HOPE FOR YOUR KIND LIES IN THE HANDS OF AN ORPHANED GIRL AND A NEGLECTED BOY?>

“If you’re not going to behave any differently than we would,” Rey rages, ignoring the allusion to her past, “then what right do you have to decide that we don’t have the right to live? If we’re so lowly because of our lack of mercy and discrimination between the innocent and the guilty, and if you mirror that, doesn’t that make you no better than us?”

“She’s right,” Kylo immediately jumps in. “What moral authority do you have to judge us if you’re no better than us?”

<I CANNOT BE ACCUSED OF ANY OF THE HOST OF CRIMES AND ATROCITIES THAT HUMANS HAVE COMMITTED AGAINST EACH OTHER AND AGAINST THE EARTH; I ONLY REPAY HUMANITY IN KIND.>

“And furthermore,” Rey pushes on, “you gave us no warning of any of this; you collected evidence and made your decision without listening to anyone’s stories. You’ve been the police officer, the judge, the jury… Your process and your decision were entirely unilateral. That can’t be fair!”

There’s a rushing sound in Rey’s mind, pulling insistently at her thoughts, threatening to drag her under some horrible blanket of oblivion; she realizes that the Judge is growing increasingly agitated.

<WHEN CARRIED OUT BY AN UNBIASED, MORALLY BLAMELESS PARTY, SUCH A PROCESS IS SURELY JUST.>

Suddenly, five of the figures, motionless until now, turn their eyes abruptly towards the smallest one, the one floating above the sand. Rey and Kylo watch, confused, as a long moment of silence and stillness passes before the smallest one slowly lifts its hands—if they can be called hands—and removes its veil, folding the white material back—and suddenly, Rey finds herself staring into the sixth being’s face. 

Despite the light radiating from its body, Rey can discern that the skin of its face is bluish and semi-transparent, like the skin of the rest of its body, and its eyes—three rows of two large, unblinking, pupil-less eyes—are a striking golden yellow. Its face is, like its body, soft and round, almost youthful. There are no other features on its face, no mouth or nose, no ears, no hair; just the eyes, fixed motionlessly on Rey and Kylo as the alien organs intricately arranged in its head pulse lightly beneath its skin. 

Without taking its gaze off of Rey and Kylo, it rises an inch higher in the air and declares: <I stand with the earthlings.>

The agitation that Rey felt tugging at her mind swells, whistling like a boiling kettle; a peal of sharp pain cracks through her skull. She staggers backward, as though struck.

<While my judgement of the humans may be correct,> the sixth being continues, <my moral authority in meting out punishment is questionable at best. My methods of extermination, too, indicate a certain heartlessness that exceeds what is necessary and appropriate for my calling.>

<HOW DARE YOU DEPART FROM THE FOLD—>

<There is no need to destroy the humans. Or, at least, there is no reason to deny their plea for clemency. I could at least grant them one more chance. Where does the need for exterminating these humans come from? Why must I do this?>

The sixth being’s golden gaze glitters enigmatically. 

<These humans, they are mere children compared to my years. Do I judge and exterminate children?>

The chaos and confusion raging in the Judge—or the Judges? Rey isn’t sure at this point—swirl frantically. The disunity caused by the sixth being’s self-individuation stirs the mental presence that, until now, sat immovably in Rey’s mind. Something begins to fray.

<I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS DEVIATION. RETURN TO THE FOLD, OR BE PURGED.>

<I will return if you answer my question. Why must we kill the humans? Why must we exterminate them? What is it in us that demands such a sentence?>

The Judge’s presence is reduced from carefully-formulated, colorless words to blind swaths of pure emotion. Rey squeezes her eyes shut against the onslaught, but the colors flare brightly behind her eyelids, and the noises that rage in her mind are impossible to block out, like the shrill cries of an agitated orchestra. 

<What happened that drives us to this? What happened?>

The noises cut off abruptly, the colors swallowed up by gray in an instant.

<What happened? What—>

<I DON’T WISH TO REMEMBER.>

The voice blares in Rey’s mind like a foghorn in the mist. What had been confusion and turmoil are now consolidated into a willful, razor-sharp rage.

<I DON’T WISH TO REMEMBER. I DON’T WISH TO REMEMBER IDON’TWISHTOREMEMBERRR—>

The sixth being springs up, nearly clearing the produce-laden table. 

<Run!> It cries. 

Then, in an unearthly voice, from a part of its body that Rey can’t immediately discern, it shouts something in a language that Rey can’t understand. One of the other beings rises and swipes at it with a many-clawed appendage, but the sixth being darts out of the way.

Kylo takes a step backward, tugging on Rey’s hand; she stumbles after him, half-dazed.

“It’s repressing something,” she mumbles in realization as Kylo forces her to backpedal. “It’s reliving something that it tried to cauterize. Should… Should we help it?”

“No! Are you insane!?” Kylo shouts. “We need to go, _now_!”

The sixth being shouts once again, and Rey, again, doesn’t understand. It shoots out its hand, and the doorway through which she and Kylo had passed through flies open, having been closed quietly by the Judge before. Almost immediately, the five other beings turn in unison and fling themselves at the sixth being, knocking the table and its contents over; the carefully-arranged produce and flowers spill onto the sand, rolling into the water. On the horizon, dark clouds begin to gather, casting a reddish shadow on the waters below. 

In the midst of the confusion, one of the beings produces something long and slender from its belt and stabs the sixth being.

Rey shrieks. Kylo slaps a hand over her mouth before lifting her over his shoulder with his other arm, and they tumble through the doorway back into the darkness.

\---

“Put me down! I can run,” Rey insists, pounding her fist on Kylo’s back, jostling over his shoulder as he runs. He sets her down on her feet, more or less, and together, they race through the darkness, without any floor lights to show them the way.

“It’s too dark,” Kylo pants. “I can’t see where we’re going.”

“Wasn’t the path straight the whole way?”

“I don’t know! I can’t remember. I thought we took some turns—”

Just then, every light along the hallway floor flares brightly, and the dark slate-blue floors and walls glow almost white. Rey squints down the hallway, hesitating.

Behind them, the sixth being screams again. Rey looks back and, to her horror, sees it lying on the ground through the opening in the wall, mangled almost beyond recognition, its translucent blue skin almost entirely shredded. Somehow, it screams again.

“I think it’s telling us to go,” Kylo says, urging Rey on. The unsettling sound of doors opening and closing echo up and down the hallway. Rey turns away from the carnage behind her and nods, sucking in a breath, and they continue running down the hallway.

<KILL ME.>

“What?” Rey gasps as she runs. 

<KILL ME,> it chants. <KILL ME. KILL ME.>

“Is that the Judge, or...the other Judge?” Kylo grunts between thudding footfalls.

“I don’t think it matters,” Rey puffs.

“How are we going to get out? Someone needs to let us out.”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

They glance into doorways in passing, watching as the strange mechanisms fold outward and inward on themselves, watching as glimpses of strange sights flash by. At one point, Kylo sees the room with the Kaiju in stasis, and shouts to Rey: “We’re almost there!”

“Good,” Rey pants. The clanging of tortured discord hasn’t let up in her mind, and the intensity of the Judge’s conflict is really doing a number on her brain. “I haven’t—run this—hard since—”

They screech around a corner, nearly ending up in a pile against the wall, and suddenly, the blaring and trilling of multiple Jaeger system alarms hit them. Another dash down the hallway, another turn, and they see the breach, opening and closing jerkily like a tortured mouth, and below it, still held suspended over the landing platform—

“Shit,” Kylo spits. 

The _Black Swan_ , against all hope, hovers in a chaotic state of semi-deconstruction, its various parts fluttering in and out of place, as though an invisible giant is hesitantly trying and failing to piece it back together, in stark contrast to the geometrically immaculate stillness of the deconstruction it had gone through when they’d first arrived. Some of the _Black Swan_ ’s various parts lie on the ground, motionless, seemingly forgotten. Somehow, despite the physical disconnection of the pieces of its body, the _Black Swan_ ’s alarms are on full blast, warning Rey and Kylo of system failure of every kind. Loudest of all trills the alert warning that the core reactor is undergoing meltdown.

“We have to get out of here,” Kylo says urgently, ushering Rey towards the breach.

“Wait,” Rey says, digging her heels in, the Judge’s chilling plea still echoing in her mind. “There has to be a way to make sure that the salted bomb in the helmet goes off, too.”

Kylo glances up at the _Black Swan_ ’s helmet, where it hangs up in the air. “We can’t reach it from here.”

“But if we don’t detonate it as well as the core, some parts of this...this facility could survive, and the Judge could still come back.”

“Couldn’t the detonation of the core...I don’t know, cause the salted one in the helmet to go off?”

“I don’t know,” Rey says frustratedly, biting her lip. “I’m not sure a chain reaction is possible.”

As though on cue, the salted bomb, a modest speck floating in the cavity of the _Black Swan_ ’s helmet, suddenly falls from its position in the air, landing with a cringe-inducing _clang_ a mere foot or two from Rey’s boots. Rey and Kylo scramble back from the thing, watching with bated breath as it rolls drunkenly before coming to a gradual stop. Something in the back of Rey’s mind shrieks wordlessly.

“Uh,” Rey mumbles. “Thanks.”

She and Kylo hurry forward and roll the surprisingly-heavy salted nuke until its panel faces skyward. “C’mon, Rose,” Rey mumbles as she begins manually starting the countdown with shaking fingers. When she backs away a few moments later, the condensation-blurred screen of the bomb shows a methodical countdown from 00:10:00.

“I set it for ten minutes. Should give us enough time to get out of here,” Rey mumbles.

“Okay. C’mon, let’s go,” Kylo says, bundling her towards the highly unstable-looking breach once again.

“Wait!”

“What now!?”

“If we get through the breach, and that’s a huge if,” Rey says, looking pointedly at the convulsing thing in the ceiling, “we’re going to be stuck at the bottom of the Pacific. We need some kind of flotation device.”

Kylo looks around for a moment. 

“The _Black Swan_ ’s got some fiber reinforced plastic in it, right?” He points to some of the detritus lying on the ground, and Rey spots a couple of slabs of black-painted FRP lying amid the other discarded parts. Rey runs over and roots about before emerging with a large slab of FRP, large enough for both her and Kylo to hold onto.

They look at each other with wild eyes and realize that they actually have a chance, however slim it may be, at getting out alive. With wordless hurry, they grip onto the sheet of FRP as tightly as they can, praying that the force of reentering the Pacific Ocean won’t tear the sheet apart, and drag the sheet towards the rapidly fluttering breach.

Once the yawning opening is stretched wide, like a mouth crying out in anguish, Rey and Kylo rush toward the opening as one. The gravity of whatever alien world they’re currently in seems to give way, and as the world yields them to the breach, Rey turns and indulges in one last look at the _Black Swan_. 

Her first ever Jaeger now floats above the alien platform in a mess of parts, its various intricate pieces either lying on the ground or hovering tenuously in the air. As she watches, some invisible force begins to claw at the chest of the Jaeger, flinging back metal parts, titanium alloy sheets, intricate mechanisms that made up the _Black Swan_ ’s unique heart, tugging at the casing of the nuclear reactor core with increasing urgency. 

Suddenly, the walls of the breach flutter, and the opening of the breach snaps shut; with a head-spinning wrench, Rey and Kylo find themselves propelled upwards towards the other end of the gateway. The mysterious black substance that had wrapped around them and provided their suits with oxygen falls away, clumping like thick custard and splattering against the walls of the breach, leaving their exosuits spotless. 

As they rocket through the channel, Rey’s eyes remain glued to where the _Black Swan_ had been visible moments ago, eyes wide.

Just as she and Kylo are spit out into the ocean and the breach snaps shut, she senses the disturbance ripple through the ocean—the invisible force of two nuclear bombs detonating. She watches as the seam of rock and sand trembles, bubbling almost, before sinking into the ground, as though being swallowed in on itself. 

Whatever drove her and Kylo out of the tunnel of the breach ruthlessly propels them onward, and the place where the opening to the breach used to be vanishes in the distance, and it’s all she can do to keep both hands clamped to the FRP sheet—

—but the propulsion force slams her into both Kylo and the FRP sheet, and she hears a heart-stopping _crack_ , and suddenly her suit is filling with water—

—and Kylo’s mouth is moving frantically, his whole face contorted with concern as he wraps an arm around her waist, trying to keep her steady against the wild buffeting of the sheet—

—and the sunlight is so close, so _close_ , Rey can almost see the sun-gilded tips of the waves on the surface of the ocean, she can almost taste the ocean air, maybe even hear the shrill whinnying of black kites undulating over the music of ocean water, even as she’s thrashing about in panic and choking on brine, with nothing but water in her ears, only water—

—she’s always been a fighter, a tenacious survivor, but a happy ending has never been in her cards, has it? So maybe this is finally the time to lay it all down. Maybe this is the time to let it all go… 

...and her vision slowly goes black.

\---

As soon as the FRP sheet buoys them to the surface, Kylo, struggling against the awkward bobbing of the sheet in the choppy ocean water, wrestles with Rey’s helmet until he’s able to detach it, and flings it out of the way. He shakes her roughly.

“Rey?”

But her eyes are closed, her long lashes beaded with jewel-like droplets of water; her body flops limply along with his shaking.

“No,” Kylo mutters, cupping her face. “Rey, come back to me. Wake up. _Wake up_.”

His own helmet comes off next, lost to the ocean; he presses his cheek against her neck, and is relieved to feel a faint, unsteady pulse.

“Okay.” Kylo gathers her waist up, holding her close to him, babbling nervously. “Okay. We can do this. I—I think I see the shore. We’ll get there in no time—”

A particularly large wave clocks him in the back of his head, slamming his forehead against the FRP sheet before engulfing him in water, and the last thing he remembers is the burning sensation of water in his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're in the home stretch -- stay tuned for the last chapter!! We're almost theeerrrreeee


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh, okay. Here we are, finally -- the conclusion to all of this craziness!

_“When do you suppose this will all end?”_

_Obi-Wan turns to look at his copilot, who lies in his hospital bed, his face drawn and pale, his body emaciated from constant vomiting._

_“I'm not sure,” Obi-Wan replies honestly. “It could take years.”_

_“I'm beginning to fear that.” Anakin lets out a dry chuckle that rattles his lungs. He turns his gaze to the window, staring out at the sun-bathed city._

_“I’d hoped to see this through,” he murmurs. “There is still so much left to do…”_

_Anakin’s face contorts suddenly as another round of coughing shakes him to the bone. Obi-Wan rushes to his side and helps him sit up, before grabbing a nearby bucket and shoving it under Anakin’s chin. Anakin manages to throw up a trickle of bile and scrunches up his face as he turns away._

_“Pathetic,” he spits, wiping at the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his hospital gown. “Ventress and Quinlan are out there putting their lives on the line, and Amilyn and that new Mandalorian soldier are training for hours every day, and I'm just lying here, waiting for death.”_

_Obi-Wan sits heavily beside Anakin’s bony ankles._

_“There isn't anything wrong with being at the beginning of a journey, but not at the end,” Obi-Wan reasons. “Passing things on to the next generation is a natural thing. And if anything, our radiation poisoning is my fault, not yours. I should have thought...” He looks away._

_Anakin huffs dismissively. “It's not fair to blame it on you or me individually. I just wish I could hold out for a bit longer. Just a few more months, even...” He closes his eyes weakly, his breaths shallow and uneven._

_“I know.” Obi-Wan takes one of his copilot’s wasted wrists in his hand. “But we've laid out the groundwork for future generations as best we can.”_

_“Yes. I suppose it's up to them now. God, I hope we've done enough.”_

\---

Sand in his eyes.

Kylo blinks against the tiny grains, and makes the mistake of trying to rub his eyes with his hands, which are also covered in wet sand. It takes a good long moment before his eyes are clear—stinging slightly, but clear.

He sits up slowly, his limbs unexpectedly aching, and stares down for a moment at his waterlogged Ranger’s suit, ocean debris clinging to his limbs, waves lapping at his boots. The ocean before him is serene, the sky cloudless and awash with the colors of sunset. 

It would be beautiful if he could remember how he got here. 

It comes back to him in bits and pieces; he frowns at the horizon until he remembers being propelled out of the breach, watching as Rey’s helmet filled with water—

“Shit.” He shoots to his feet, stumbling on the tilted, water-hardened sand, gazing frantically around himself. 

—her closed eyes, her unsteady pulse—

“ _Shit_.” He sees her then, just barely—hundreds of feet away, half-wrapped in seaweed, still caught in the push and pull of the waves. As Kylo hurries closer, he sees that the neck of her suit is torn, and that her eyes are still closed. He picks her up by the armpits and drags her clear of the water, rips angrily at the seaweed, and gathers her up in his arms, cradling her head in the crook of his elbow.

In the stillness of the evening, he presses a finger to her pulse point, and is relieved to feel a faint flutter.

Finally, Kylo looks up and attempts to take in his surroundings. The Shatterdome is nowhere in sight. The shore is clawed up in some areas, with long, arcing lines torn deep into the layers of dirt and rock under the loam and sand, as well as some of the grass-covered dirt beyond the dunes and the deserted urban landscape further inland—the Emissary Kaiju’s handiwork. Still Hong Kong, but not in a part that Kylo is familiar with. They could be on any of the periphery islands, as far as he can tell.

Kylo gives Rey a quick examination, prodding at her body through her suit. All seems fine, except for her left ankle, which is swollen and rapidly purpling. He touches it, and withdraws his hand quickly when Rey groans through her unconsciousness.

_Maybe sprained. Maybe broken._

Kylo picks her up with exceeding gentleness and hurries, slipping and sliding over the sand, too single-mindedly focused on finding help to remove his cumbersome boots. He crosses over the dunes into the grassy strip of land, then over that into the nearby city. The buildings along the shoreline are almost entirely gone, their once-upon-a-time presences indicated only by puddles of glass, shredded steel, crumbling concrete and brick; the rest of the urban forest is deathly silent. No doubt the occupants evacuated once the Emissary Kaiju emerged from the breach. It occurs to Kylo that he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he and Rey entered the breach.

Pushing away the thought, he strides into the city, where isolated lamps and blinking store signs keep the looming darkness at bay, and swings his searching gaze from side to side, looking for any sign of life. 

He spends the next thirty minutes wandering the streets of the mystery city, scrutinizing signs, peering into windows and doorways and cars, stepping into shops and stations and lobbies and restaurants. He hears skittering sounds occasionally, and thinks that he can hear hushed voices, but never sees anyone. 

He comes across an unlocked shop, and his stomach grumbles loudly at the sight of the snacks lining the shelves. After wrestling momentarily with his conscience, he walks in and helps himself to some of the food. Not particularly healthy or substantive, but good enough to take the edge off his hunger. He continues on.

He tries every phone he comes across, all of which merely play a robotic voice informing him that the line is disconnected. Several buildings don’t even appear to have electricity. 

He tries a hospital, taking the stairs three at a time, but the lights are off and the floors are deserted. With a heavy heart, he lays Rey down on a hospital bed and collapses into the uncomfortable visitor’s bedside chair.

After a long moment, he drags himself to the sink, wets a towel, and wipes Rey’s face and arms clean, being careful not to rub too aggressively against her skin. She mumbles something incoherent, but her eyes remain closed. With her pinched expression, her long lashes just brushing the tops of her cheeks, her body dwarfed by the standard-sized hospital bed, she looks especially young and vulnerable. It’s difficult to reconcile this fragile-looking girl with the woman who’d fearlessly entered the breach with him to tangle with the Judge.

“We can’t stay here,” Kylo murmurs, thumbing her cheek tenderly. “No one is going to find us here, and I don’t know how to take care of you.”

He gathers her up and heads back out.

\---

In the descending night, the empty city begins to feel oppressive and claustrophobic, so Kylo follows the sound of the ocean until he arrives at the grassy land separating the city from the sand. He chances a look out across the dark waters, the horizon now obscured by the night, and sees it before he hears it. First the blinking white and red lights, then the sound of rotor blades chopping air.

_Helicopter_. Kylo almost drops Rey in his rush to the beach. Laying her gently on the sand, he rushes as far into the water as he can.

“Wait!” He shouts, waving his arms. For a crazed moment, he thinks that perhaps the white of his suit will be visible to whoever is in the helicopter. “We’re here! We’re over here!”

His vision spins with hunger, exhaustion, desperation. He presses on nonetheless, waving his arms, shouting himself hoarse. Eventually, the helicopter lifts into the air, having canvassed a patch of the ocean, and begins to head parallel to the beach, away from Kylo.

“NO!” He screams. “WE’RE OVER HERE!”

The helicopter continues on, heedless. Kylo watches, hands clenched into fists, as it disappears into the distance. He watches until the blinking lights are no longer visible.

He wades slowly back to the beach, his suit waterlogged once again. He hefts Rey up gently into his arms. He puts the ocean on his right, the city on his left. He points his feet in the direction of the helicopter.

\---

Sometime in the small hours of the morning, Kylo strips off his Ranger suit, leaving his uniform on underneath, and spreads out the ruined material on the grass by the dunes. He lays Rey on it, then curls up next to her, pulling her close to his chest. For a moment, he remembers the night when she appeared at his door and slipped into his bed, the way she’d felt pressed close to his chest.

He snuggles her closer, shielding her from the chill of the night as best he can, and allows himself to drift into a fitful sleep.

\---

A few hours later, Kylo rises, his shoulders and hips sore from sleeping on the ground, and carefully gathers Rey back up. A thin layer of sweat covers her face and neck, and he presses his palm to her forehead, only to jerk it back from the unexpected heat.

“Fuck.” Kylo scrambles back into his suit, drapes his uniform shirt around Rey—how do you take care of someone with a fever? Do you smother it, or let it burn? Fuck if he knows—and lifts her up in his arms once again. With the sun peeking over the ocean, flooding the beach with a watery light, he continues his way north.

\---

Even though the pleasant chill of autumn has mostly settled in, chasing out the humid heat of summer, the cloudless sky affords little protection from the sun, and as the sun rises higher, Kylo can feel the skin of his face and neck beginning to tingle with sunburn. He pauses in the shade of a tree to adjust his uniform shirt, covering Rey’s face with it to protect her exposed skin, and trudges along the grassy strip until they reach the end of the city. He turns for a moment to look at the dense tangle of buildings towering behind him, still eerily silent.

He turns his back on the city and continues on.

\---

Kylo wonders how long it’s been since he last ate real food. His stomach rumbles in solidarity with his thoughts. He sets aside the memory of food for now.

\---

Kylo wonders whether the next member of his family he'll see will be Han or Ben. He sets that thought aside, too.

\---

“You were right,” he mumbles to the unconscious girl in his arms. “Being alone is terrible.”

\---

It’s been an hour or four since he left the city, and the northern edge of the island he’s on is starting to reveal itself in the distance. He pauses for a moment and squints beyond the narrow channel of water that separates the island from its neighboring island, straining to see what might lie beyond. But he sees nothing familiar; no silhouette of Hong Kong Island or Kowloon, no looming shape of the Shatterdome. With a disheartened sigh, he lowers Rey to the ground, pushing back his shirt uniform to expose her flushed face to the air for a bit. He plops down heavily on the ground and presses a tentative palm to her forehead, and finds it to be more or less as hot as it was before.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. Maybe he should try leaving her uncovered; perhaps the answer was to let the fever burn out after all. He moves to unwrap the shirt from around her slender body.

This time, he hears it before he sees it—rotor blades beating rhythmically, a distant whoosh of air. He snaps his head up, not trusting his sleep-deprived eyes at first. But there it is, appearing in the distance: a helicopter, skimming along the adjacent island, making its way towards his vague direction.

Kylo shoots to his feet, almost tripping over Rey. He snatches up his uniform shirt and runs toward the helicopter, waving his shirt frantically, not caring who the occupants are.

“Here!” He yells. “Over here!”

By some miracle, the helicopter alters course slightly to head directly toward him. He turns then and dashes back to Rey, only half-aware of how badly he’s probably jostling her as he sweeps her up. He gathers her close to his chest, hunching around her to protect her from the worst of the sandy winds whipping up around them as the helicopter dips low. 

He hazards a glance over his shoulder. Someone’s jumping out of the helicopter before it’s quite touched the ground, stumbling at the sudden contact with the motionless earth, and making their way towards Kylo, their arm held up to their eyes against the wind. Kylo gets up and begins walking toward them.

As the figure nears, Kylo realizes that it’s Han. He stops in his tracks, overwhelmed by a combination of relief, anticipation, exhaustion. Han, upon recognizing his son, only kicks up his heels harder, until he’s running as fast as his worn-out frame will allow him.

He reaches Kylo in a rush, and suddenly Kylo is looking into the craggy face of his father, the deep lines in the cheeks and around the eyes filled with rivulets of tears, the normally-stoic mouth torn between smiling and sobbing—

—and Han pulls his son into a hug, maneuvering awkwardly around Rey.

“Oh my god,” is the only thing Han seems capable of saying. “Oh my god.”

\---

The days pass like water in a river, with no increments, no end, no beginning. Rey comes to shortly after they arrive at the Shatterdome, and, for a few days, does little more than blink, croak, and straddle the border between dreaming and wakefulness. Jannah, Finn, Poe, Han, Kaydel, and sometimes Bodhi flit in and out of the med wing, offering words, trinkets, and sometimes just silent solidarity. Maz visits a few times a day, bearing food and steaming cups of tea.

Kylo, however, is an almost-constant presence. He feeds her when her own arm gives out; he curls up in the hospital bed beside her, lending her his body heat; he helps her to and from the bathroom; he wakes her gently when her fever-fueled dreams descend into nightmares. As she regains her strength, he begins carrying her in and out of the Shatterdome to see the ocean, the sunsets.

\---

They watch the news together, listening to the stories of evacuees returning to their homes or moving into temporary shelters, the opinions of experts on how long the path to recovery might be and what it might take; and, after they debrief Korr Sella, along with a panel of other UN representatives, on the events in the breach, and after the UN gives the public a sterilized summary, Rey and Kylo watch as the people of the world react with humility, shame, indignation, disbelief.

“Do you think,” Rey asks one night, her voice small, as they lie side by side, “that if the Judge had given us another chance, we could have changed?”

“No,” he replies immediately. “But we’ll never have to know.”

“You think the Judge is gone?”

“We blew up its vessels, its Kaiju, the breach… How would it have survived such a blow?”

“I don’t know,” Rey admits. “But we can’t be sure that it’s impossible.”

“No,” Kylo agrees; he rolls over onto his side slowly and tucks Rey under his arm, holding her close. “I guess not.”

\---

“Kay?”

“Hmm?”

They’re sitting outside the Shatterdome. Their legs dangle from the pier; the cold ocean spray works into their hair and clothes, leaving a salty residue; the sunny sky arches high over them.

“What are you going to do now?” Armitage asks.

“Go home, I suppose.”

“Where’s home?”

“I haven’t told you?” Kaydel giggles self-consciously. “I’m from the States. From Montana.”

“Montana? What the hell is in Montana?”

“Oh, a whole mishmash of things. Lots of nature, lots of local food, lots of open carry. It's an extremely underrated state, if you ask me.”

“Hmmph.” Armitage looks thoughtful for a moment, leaning against the ocean-gilded wood of the pier. Kaydel leans her chin against her forearms and waits.

“Come back to Ireland with me,” he finally says. “Just for a bit. You can leave whenever you'd like.”

“Ireland? I thought your accent was British.”

“It is. I use British, for the most part.”

“Why’s that?”

“People don’t seem to take me as seriously when I sound Irish.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Armitage shrugs. “So? How about it?”

“Going to Ireland with you?”

Kaydel squints at the unbroken horizon for a moment. She has a job she could probably (but not likely) return to. A small apartment in the outskirts of Bozeman. No friends, no family. Just her textbooks, her diaries filled with daydreams and nightmares and off-the-cuff calculations, and her motley succulents, all of which are probably either mutant or dead.

“What’s Ireland like?” She asks Armitage, smiling brightly at him. He hesitates for a moment, searching her face, before smiling back.

\---

She often catches herself bracing for the Kaiju alarm to sound off at any moment. She makes Kylo recount what happened in the breach multiple times, unsure of how much she trusts her own memory. He complies most of the time, although he remains tight-lipped about the days afterward, the hours he spent carrying her along the beach towards what he hoped was the Shatterdome; Rey senses a deep hurt there, and respects his unspoken boundary.

One time, as he patiently describes stepping from the dark, endless hallway into the chamber of the Judge, he says something he hadn’t mentioned before.

“Trees, as far as you could see,” he mumbles nonchalantly, before stuffing his mouth full with a bite of pork bun.

“Trees?” Rey looks at him curiously. “Well, there were a few trees, yeah, but I’d say the ocean was the main focus.”

“Ocean?” Kylo frowns, speaking around his mouthful of food. “There wasn’t any ocean. We were in a forest on the tip of a mountain, above the clouds. There was snow everywhere...”

“That’s not what I remember at all,” Rey counters. “It was ocean, ocean all around, and clear skies overhead. We were on a small island, hardly large enough to stand on. There was a table, with fruit and flowers piled high on it.”

“What did the Judge look like to you?” Kylo asks.

“All manner of strange-looking aliens, I suppose? The one who turned on the others and helped us escape was really small, with transparent blue skin, and...six golden eyes, I think.”

“The one I saw was huge, at least two feet taller than the others. Covered in thick dark brown fur, like a bear. It had a crown of antlers, two huge green eyes…”

“Not at all close to what I saw,” Rey murmurs, half in wonder, half in dread. “Did that whole conversation even happen?”

“Everything else you’ve said about the conversation is as I remember it.”

“But what we _saw_ …”

“It must have been an illusion, fabricated by the Judge.”

“That’s…”

“Yeah.” 

Rey stares down at her bowl of chicken soup congee.

“I really hope the Judge is dead,” she mutters. Kylo, his appetite gone, says nothing.

\---

After a few days, as Rey mends steadily, she looks up with a sudden thought while Han is visiting.

“Han,” she says, “where are Rose and Zorii?”

Han’s contented smile drops; Kylo’s gaze slides away.

“Zorii passed away from her injuries,” Han replies slowly. “Rose… We haven’t seen her since the day you two deployed.”

“The day we deployed?” Rey echoes, confused. “But…that was more than a week ago.”

Han nods once, wordlessly.

“What do you mean, you haven’t _seen_ her?” Rey demands.

“The last time anyone saw her was when she was heading out of the hangar towards the ocean after helping you two get strapped into the _Black Swan_. There’s been no sign of her since. She hasn’t been in her room, the hangar, the canteen. She hasn’t checked in or out of the Shatterdome. There hasn’t been enough people to conduct a proper search, but as far as I know, she just...disappeared.”

Rose? _Gone?_ Rey recalls feeling that something had been off with Rose, but she didn’t imagine—she would _never_ have imagined—

Kylo reaches for her.

\---

Han has a gift for her the next day: seven small photos in seven simple metal frames. Rey flips through the small stack of photos slowly, gazing first at Jyn and Cassian, then Leia and Luke, then Commander Holdo and Zorii, and finally Rose. It feels wrong to include Rose among the dead, so she pushes Rose’s photo back into Han’s hands; Han takes it back reluctantly, but nods understandingly.

“We’re being discharged in about a week,” he informs them as he pauses on his way out the door. “There’ll be a skeleton crew staying on to monitor the breach for a few weeks, and Finn and Poe are sticking around in case the _Blitzkrieg_ is needed, but the rest of us are getting kicked out. I’d start packing and making arrangements now, if I were you.”

Rey stares at him hollowly.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he says softly, before closing the door behind himself.

\---

With the remaining six photos in a bag slung over her shoulder, Rey allows Kylo to help her into her crutches and out of the med wing and down to the storage level.

By the time they make it to the elevator, she’s breathing heavily; he offers to carry her piggy-back, carrying her crutches easily in one huge hand. The door to the memorium stands slightly agape, but the room is dark. Rey wonders who was here last.

Kylo sets her down gently, hands her crutches back to her, and switches on the lightbulb overhead. Rey arranges the six new photos beside the others, taking care to line them up neatly. She stands in front of the line of deceased Rangers, leaning heavily against her crutches, for a long moment, waiting to feel some semblance of closure, but feeling only grief and inadequacy. A surreptitious sniffle escapes her; Kylo brings his arms around her and pulls her close, and they hold onto each other as they had in the breach.

After a lingering silence, they switch off the lightbulb and close the door of the memorium behind them. Kylo walks slowly alongside Rey to the elevator, and they make their way back up to the tattered, sunlit world, a world scarred by fear and irrevocable loss, a world that seems to be teetering on an invisible edge, a world waiting to be made better than it’s ever been.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * falls over dead *
> 
> Well, this has been the longest thing I've ever written, by far. In a way, I'm glad that this story is over -- it's been pretty taxing to write -- but I'm also really sad that we've reached the finish line. Thanks for reading up through the end! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Also, to those of you in the US: VOTE! If you're planning on voting by absentee ballot, be sure to read the instructions carefully!
> 
> On that note -- see y'all around! Stay safe, be kind, eat your vegetables, etc. <3

**Author's Note:**

> * does a shameless plug dance *
> 
>   * [pressed down, shaken together, running over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797028/chapters/54479338) \- modern day AU where Rey and Kylo work at the same company - introspective, slightly dramatic, focus on character development (COMPLETE)
>   * [furball](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119837/chapters/55319881) \- modern day, casual magic AU where Kylo has a run-in with a small brown cat and things spiral from there - lighthearted, fluffy, short (COMPLETE)
>   * [the black swan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474413/chapters/56279338) \- modern day, sci-fi AU based on the movie _Pacific Rim_ \- dark, plot-heavy, equal parts action and introspection/relational development (COMPLETE)
>   * [borrowed sunlight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686939/chapters/65093515) \- vaguely historical fantasy/mythological AU based on the Chinese myth _The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl_ \- fluffy and romantic, a little awkward, sometimes a little dark. Beware: science is thrown to the wind! (COMPLETE)
>   * [when i look at you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169441/chapters/66356758) \- Harry Potter AU where Rey and Ben meet during their school years, and then again a few years later - dark and angsty (COMPLETE)
>   * [exultant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29406645/chapters/72242856) \- 1950s AU with a chronically lying, burgling Rey whose employment by Kylo Ren proves to be life-changing - dark, psychological, suspenseful
> 



End file.
